


Unforeseen Serenade

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Some Humor, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since her return from the past, Emma has discovered that her feelings for Regina far surpass those of friendship. Regina is still mad at her for bringing back Marian and ruining her relationship with Robin but with a little help from music, and their meddling son, she discovers a few things of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aryousavvy (MadisonLeigh)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadisonLeigh/gifts).



> I was going to wait to post this until it was finished, but it honestly took the least amount of prodding to change my mind.

Loving you has got to be,

Like the devil and the deep blue sea.

My conscience got to be my guide.

Oh honey take me, take, take, take, take, take-

Take me to the other side.

 

Heels quickened their pace over asphalt, bringing the Mayor closer to where the atrocious music blared through the neighbourhood. She was surprised she hadn't heard anything from the residents about the noise, but as she moved closer, the reason for such became blindingly clear as she caught sight of the blonde stood atop the ladder resting against the house. Of course, no one in their right mind would complain about the Sheriff. Their beloved Savior and Princess could do no wrong—unless that wrong happened to coincide with defending the Evil Queen, in which case she was thought temporarily insane by the wonderful people of Storybrooke and received an automatic pass.

Hammer in hand, Emma looked to be repairing the roof of the rundown house and as Regina stopped, her brow rose curiously. She watched for a few minutes, putting her irritation aside as she zeroed in on the tight play of muscles in the arm that struck in time to the music, tracing over shoulders and down the back where the blonde's tank had ridden up to show off a considerable amount of skin.

Her mouth dried and she swallowed, readying herself to shout but as her lips parted, she found herself unable to utter a word as she imagined pressing her lips to the warm, salty flesh on display— _tasting_ the blonde as if sampling a fine wine. She blinked, wondering what was happening to herself as she tried to shake off the sudden fog clouding her mind. Emma had always caused strong reactions in her but this was simply ridiculous. It was absurd, to be thinking of the woman she loathed to know in such a way and it needed to stop immediately.

"Miss Swan!" she snapped.

She smirked as Emma jerked, only for panic to grip her as the ladder holding the blonde tipped backwards precariously. Emma, however, had been practicing and her hand darted out behind her, magic shooting down at the ground and giving her the push she needed to settle back against the house. If she weren't busy berating herself, Regina might have considered congratulating the blonde for her quick thinking.

Emma glanced back over her shoulder, exasperated emerald meeting stricken caramel before she turned back and calmly descended the ladder. With a wave to the stereo sat on the table not far from where Regina stood, the music stopped and Emma walked over, arms folded and eyebrow cocked as she waited for her to say something.

Close enough to see the beads of sweat rolling down her neck, Regina felt her stomach do a little flip and had to clear her throat—twice—before she was able to speak again. "The volume of your music is unacceptable, Miss Swan," she spat, her cheeks reddening as she noted the sudden amusement staring back at her.

"I've been making quite a lot of noise all morning, Madam Mayor," Emma replied, unperturbed. She gestured toward the somewhat less rundown house, most of the repairs done so obvious that one would have to be blind not to see them as she informed, "I haven't received a single complaint since I turned on the music."

Forgetting that she was conversing with the bane of her existence for a moment, Regina allowed her curiosity to override her common sense and asked, "Why are you even bothering with this? The house is abandoned, you'd be better off tearing it down."

Emma shrugged and turned her back, looking over the house. "Perhaps," she said. "But then I would've wasted all that money for nothing."

"You _bought_ this eyesore?"

Her tone was far more incredulous than venomous and Emma chuckled. "I did," she admitted, and turned back. "I can't stay at the B&B forever, and with the lack of crime in this town—well, now I have something to do with my spare time."

Interrupted by the shout of, "Hey, Emma," both women turned at the voice to find Michael Tillman leaning against the fence. He grinned, unapologetic as Regina glared in response.

"I'm sure that's interesting and all," he said, inclining his head toward Regina with an expression that said he thought the complete opposite. "But working on the car was a lot more fun with the music, could you do something about that?"

Emma laughed and shook her head at him. "Give me a minute," she said and he nodded before ducking out of sight again. Emma looked back to the brunette who was too busy frowning at where the man had been standing to notice. "Was there something else, or did you just want to get your daily allowance of trying to yell at me out of the way?"

Emerging from the rather colourful thoughts revolving around viciously maiming her town's only mechanic, Regina's frown deepened as she questioned, "What?"

With another laugh, Emma dared to pat her on the cheek and spun. With a flick of her wrist toward the stereo, the music started up once more as Emma sauntered back to the ladder. "See you tomorrow, Madam Mayor."

 

This thing called love,

I just can't handle it.

This thing called love,

I must get round to it.

I aint ready;

Crazy little thing called love.

 

 

 

* * *

 

Tomorrow came and went, and with no sign of Regina, Emma felt the disappointment inching its way into her chest. Henry had popped in during lunch, arms filled with food lovingly put together by his grandmother, and more than happy to spend the better part of his Saturday afternoon assisting in the splattering of paint all over the place—and themselves.

Emma grinned at the memory.

Even though she had a long way to go, she'd already decided the money she spent on the house was well worth it. It distracted her from the stress that made up her unpredictable life, provided her a chance to bond with her son _and_ it forced his brunette mother to drop her walls, as brief as the moment had been. She also became quick friends with her neighbour who apparently had an obsession with 80s hair bands, which she understood and encouraged wholeheartedly.

After a week, the house looked a far sight better than it had when she first discovered it. The outside was almost done; there were no more broken windows and with David's help, she managed to replace all the boards on the walls. With another coat of paint, she would move on to rebuilding the porch, and then she'd be free to start working on the inside.

Depending on the amount of help she received, she figured another two—three weeks at most, and then she'd be able to move in and _hopefully_ Regina would be open to allowing their son to stay a few nights each week. Knowing how important his education was and how much a routine helped in terms of stability, she'd be happy having him for just the weekend.

Snatching the bottled water from her work table, she dropped to the ground and popped the lid, tilting her head back and downing half the bottle before she replaced the lid and fell onto her back. She was exhausted and with the sun no longer beating down on her mercilessly, she allowed herself to relax for a few minutes as she closed her eyes and listened to the music still playing above her.

 

Hot to trot, she's a bit insane.

Little bit a pleasure, with a little bit a pain.

I got to be smoking, so I know without a doubt;

Where there's smoke there's fire, so I've got to boot it out.

 

A car door slammed somewhere behind her and another smile curled her lips, seeing no reason to open her eyes as the familiar click of heels announced who her visitor was. The pang she had only acknowledged once she was done for the day slowly ebbed away, replaced by a feeling of fulfilment she felt only in the presence of the older woman.

 

Homely child with a hang down lip,

Starved for love and companionship.

Little by little, catching up to me;

She's more of a woman then I thought she'd be to me...

 

Regina could only resist so long, despite the claims she would no doubt have to the contrary should Emma ever point out the obvious fact it was virtually impossible for them not to run into each other at least once a day. She resisted because, more often than not; if they _didn't_ run into each other, one would seek the other out and most of the time, it was Regina who came looking rather than herself.

 

Hungry girl, she's the skinniest thing.

She's saying the word, I'm losing sting.

 

The music stopped and Emma waited to hear the half-assed excuse that would explain the brunette's presence. There was something there between them, a fact she had accepted long ago and one she knew Regina would deny with every fibre of her being regardless of her unnecessary trips to the Sheriff station throughout the months following their disagreement upon her return from the past.

"I must confess that I'm surprised, Miss Swan."

Hiding her own surprise as the first words weren't those of an excuse, Emma cracked an eye open and looked up at the brunette. Regina stood with a hand on the table, hip leaning against the side as she studied the work Emma had completed so far with an expression that looked almost impressed.

Eyes closed once more, Emma murmured, "Don't leave me hanging in suspense," certain the next comment from the woman's mouth would be something snarky to hide her inability to give someone a compliment.

"It almost looks fit for human habitation," she replied and emerald eyes snapped open. Regina smirked down at her, a knowing look in her eyes. "Congratulations, Sheriff; you're less useless than I thought," she added, and tilted her head in question.

Pushing herself up from the ground, Emma chuckled softly as she rose. "Thank you, Madam Mayor," she drawled sarcastically. "Your approval means more than you know."

The words held a semblance of truth that both were content to ignore; Regina shrugging in a way that appeared almost regal while Emma went about gathering the tools scattered all over the place and putting them in the trunk of the bug.

"Henry thought you might appreciate an invitation to dinner."

"Ah." Emma rolled her eyes, slamming the boot as she mumbled, "There it is."

Regina stared, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," she answered, and then decided that for once she wasn't going to brush it away and added, "Just that you could have called me rather than drive out here."

"I wanted…" Regina cut herself off with a huff, frown creasing her brow.

"Yes? You wanted… what?"

Masking her confusion in anger, Regina straightened and folded her arms. "Why are you picking a fight with me?" she growled. "I just invited you to dinner."

" _Henry_ invited me to dinner," Emma corrected with a resigned sigh, retrieving her iPod and dock before walking back to her car and jerking open the door.

"Just so we're clear, that's a no." She hesitated barely more than a second before she dropped into the driver's seat. "You can tell Henry… tell him whatever you want." she said, not missing Regina's flinch as she yanked the door shut.

Refusing to spare another glance on the brunette, Emma silently scolded herself as she backed out of the driveway and turned the car towards the bed and breakfast. She'd order something to eat on her way up to her room, and maybe spend the night completing some long neglected paperwork while resisting the urge to try and drown her stupidity in drink.

* * *

 

Regina sighed for the umpteenth time, fingers pressed to her temple in an attempt to ease the throb behind her eyes as she sipped her drink. Henry had been upset that Emma hadn't come to dinner and decided when he left the table that she would have to suffer through his tantrum in the form of unnaturally loud music, which not only reminded her of the blonde but contributed to the headache she was sporting.

When she woke in the morning, she was confident that she would end up throttling one of them due to the hangover she'd have thanks to their combined effort in driving her to drink. Unfortunately, her state of drunkenness wasn't enough to erase the confusion from earlier that evening, stuck as she was on trying to figure out what conceivable _wrong_ she had committed to warrant Emma's ire. Henry _had_ asked her to invite Emma to dinner, why she was all of a sudden some kind of monster for going along with his wishes and extending the invitation to the blonde was lost on her.

Why she cared that Emma was the one upset with her in the first place was a question she pushed to the back of her mind. She didn't like to be blamed for something without knowing the why of the matter, and that was enough reason to brood on it. _Who_ was upset with her was irrelevant, she would spend as much time thinking about it if it were someone as insignificant as Dopey or one of the other six miniature idiots.

Not to say that Emma was significant.

Definitely not.

Emma simply happened to be the other mother of her son, a woman who—regardless of history, barbarianism and awful dress sense—continuously displayed concern and _care_ for her, who saved her constantly without ulterior motive or expectation of something in return.

Just like her idiot father.

Regina squinted, eyeing the smidgen of amber liquid left at the bottom of her glass. Emma Swan was an irritant—an enemy. No, she couldn't possibly care for such an insufferable _Charming._ It was entirely unthinkable and there was absolutely no reason for her to be considering such a thing.

Nodding to herself, she drained the last of her whiskey and stood. She swayed on her feet, dragging a hand down over her face as though it would make a difference as to how drunk she was. _Too much_ , she thought with a yawn and waited for the floor to stop spinning before she moved toward the foyer.

Unsure when the thumping from her son's room had stopped, she threw a glance to the clock as she exited the study, and groaned upon seeing that it was well passed midnight. At the rate she was 'coping' with her problems, people would soon forget she was the once Evil Queen and start calling her the town drunk behind her back instead.

She snorted at the thought as she cautiously climbed the stairs, thankful she'd had the forethought to kick off her heels before she tried to drown her liver because even without them, it took an absurdly long time to reach the second floor and wasn't without a minor panic in which she almost tripped.

_Three times_ , her mind added, somehow part of her able to find amusement in her state as she entered the bathroom. She rummaged through the cupboard beneath the sink until she found her painkillers and downed two, along with multiple glasses of water before she stumbled into her room and into bed, crawling between sheets with a mumble.

"Damn children."

Another minute passed, eyes fixed on the bright red digits of her alarm clock as her mind refused to quiet. At Sunday lunch that afternoon, during the Swan-Charming-Mills 'family time' she would ground Henry for being a little shit—in front of the whole diner—and then she'd strangle the Sheriff—with the blonde's own necklace—for ruining her night.

She rolled to her other side and stared at the wall with an added murmur of, "Bloody blondes," before thought finally died and she closed her eyes, a smile on her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:
> 
> [The Other Side](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&sqi=2&ved=0ahUKEwiUtIuel8fKAhVHrJQKHaHECnsQyCkIHDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DzkGfPrst29Y&usg=AFQjCNHTUB0H50mlRNUQXFu8F3SB92WG8w&sig2=R23_suVeo2OtWPm8fBbdkg&bvm=bv.112766941,d.dGo) / [She's on Fire](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwiMs5Oql8fKAhWKHpQKHUyQDRAQyCkIHDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Di8LLkLepvoM&usg=AFQjCNF-4gOObqOsh-bYQMvHvxtADmfzYg&sig2=E6ht8YvgMdRWnPuu8tnD-Q&bvm=bv.112766941,d.dGo) / [Thing Called Love](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&sqi=2&ved=0ahUKEwjW9am7l8fKAhUBnpQKHRnnBzQQyCkIHDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DyziGiVua0Dg&usg=AFQjCNEjcGxWkqAo35-Pgaxvy1UkPVbsVA&sig2=nKwL_7VoEp9hDGdg3xowNA&bvm=bv.112766941,d.dGo)


	2. Chapter 2

_How dare you._

Emma smirked around a mouthful of coffee, sat against the large tree in what would soon be her very own backyard. She'd been playing fruit ninja while having lunch before the text interrupted her game and, seeing that it was Regina, she couldn't help but open it due to an annoying lack of restraint when it came to curiosity and the brunette in general.

_I have no idea what you're talking about_ , she texted back. It was a lie, of course. It was Sunday, it was lunch time and without fail, for the last four months, they would all meet at the diner in a show of solidarity, to prove they could get along and to instil trust in the townsfolk that Regina was indeed the changed woman Emma had claimed, constantly, that she was.

She remembered, and it wasn't likely something she would ever forget. For the most part, that one afternoon each week was something she looked forward to more than any other but after last night, she wasn't in the mood for the Mayor and her oblivious, snippy jabs. The terrible mood she woke with was her reason for stopping by the mansion earlier that morning and taking their son to the diner for breakfast, knowing Sunday was also the day Regina happened to sleep passed seven without fail.

Emma was a buffer and the one person who needed her most of all, refused to acknowledge the fact. Her attendance at those lunches weren't simply for the sake of her parents and their son, nor because she genuinely enjoyed their time together, but because Regina _needed_ her there. She was the wall between Regina and the ever hopeful Snow White—the one capable of calming either woman no matter the excitement surrounding them. She tampered her mother's obsessive need to be insanely clingy and sweet toward the brunette, while at the same time distracting Regina from setting her mother on fire because even though they are sort-of-friends, the former Evil Queen still existed somewhere inside the woman and needed taming every so often.

Her phone vibrated and she quickly swallowed her sip of coffee before she burst into fit of laughter as she read; _Your mother invited me shopping—_ clothes _shopping. How dare you. Don't think I don't know you fed my son sugar either._

When her laughter died down, she wore a grin a mile long and replied, _So sorry, Madam Mayor but I have a lot of work to do. Have fun shopping! P.S: Perhaps you shouldn't have taught 'your' son how to be a manipulative little so and so, and he wouldn't be full of sweet tasty chocolate._

Standing, she stretched aching muscles, moaning softly when neck and back cracked as one before she shook off the pleasant feelings and started cleaning up the mess she made. Red had swung by earlier with something to eat. _"On the house,"_ she'd claimed when Emma asked how much she owed. She suspected it was Granny's attempt to return the favor after Emma refused to accept payment for fixing that one creaky step that drove her insane every morning on her way down stairs—the horrified expression the older woman wore had been comical.

Once the containers were disposed of and she'd finished the last of her coffee, she picked up her phone one more time before she returned to work and her grin widened at the message waiting for her.

_I am going to destroy you, Miss Swan._

* * *

 

The looks she received from store clerks and customers alike whenever Snow dragged her into another store were almost enough to force Regina into doing something she would most likely regret—such as burning the building they were stood in at the time to the ground. Emma would sincerely pay for abandoning her to her mother as she had. Friend or not, there would never be a time in which she would happily follow Snow White around while listening to her drone on about her family, and how happy she was and whether or not Emma moving out and finding a house of her own meant the blonde was pulling away from them.

After an hour of listening to the woman bounce between painfully cheerful to borderline morose, Regina wanted to strangle the life out of someone and Emma was beginning to sound more and more like a worthwhile candidate, volunteer or not.

Despite her growing frustration with the woman and the nausea that assaulted her stomach whenever Snow smiled at her in that idiotically sweet way she tended to, Regina found herself contemplating purchases she wasn't able to understand at the time. Even though Snow wanted to shop for clothes, they spent more of their time in the furniture shop run by Gepetto than anywhere else. Why Snow thought Emma would appreciate their input on the type of couch she put in her lounge, or which set of tables and chairs would suit her dining room when neither of them were planning on living with the blonde had yet made itself known to her.

Wandering about the store when Snow fished her phone from her purse, Regina found herself drawn to the bedroom section and was trying to figure out _why_ as she stared down at a rather comfortable looking, king-sized mattress. She imagined Emma lying there, arms and legs splayed all over the place as she grinned up at her, and shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts.

"That looks comfy," came a voice from behind her and Regina spun, eyes narrowing as she gave the blonde a once over.

"I thought you had work to do," she sniped, glancing about for the chirpy dimwit she arrived with, knowing the woman had something to do with her spawn's appearance.

Catching the shrug from the corner of her eye, she gave up on what seemed a futile waste of time and returned her attention to the blonde. "I ran out of nails," Emma reasoned and dropped unceremoniously to the mattress Regina had been eyeing for the better part of the last ten minutes.

"I asked Mom if she managed to convince you to go shopping and she called as I left the hardware store. I figured watching you get annoyed by her might be slightly more entertaining than building a porch," she explained, flashing one of her lopsided grins as Regina rolled her eyes.

Deciding she was still too annoyed with the woman, Regina turned away and made her way over to the exit. As inconvenient as her new thoughts involving Emma were, they were far more tolerable outside of the blonde's presence and didn't cause those confusing feelings to stir beneath her breast. She was starting to realize she was attracted to the blonde, that much was becoming blindingly obvious but there were other things—things she couldn't quite put into words and it made her uncomfortable.

She was accustomed to knowing herself, knowing what she wanted, when she wanted it— _why_ she wanted it and then simply… taking it. But this? This was different. She hated—loathed, _disliked_ Emma at the very least. She was crude, cocky and intolerable to the point that Regina daydreamed—often—of draining the life from her in very vivid and inventive ways. Emma pushed every single one of her _kill_ buttons with little to no effort and it was only by the existence of the son they shared that she hadn't, as of yet, given in.

Just that morning when she woke to find her son gone and a message on the counter claiming Emma had taken him for breakfast because she wasn't going to make it to lunch, that Regina wanted to transport herself to the diner and rip the blonde's head from her shoulders. It was only the thought of his face that calmed her and a nice, long soak in the bath further before she decided Emma wasn't worth the bother.

"Hey."

Not having considered the fact Emma would follow—of course she would—Regina jerked at the intrusion of her thoughts and growled low in her throat, tired of the confusion and frustration she'd been feeling ever since Emma rejected her invitation to dinner the previous night.

"What?" she barked, spinning to face the blonde. "What do you want, Miss Swan? Because last night, you ran away and this afternoon you were avoiding me up until two hours ago, so tell me; what the hell do you want and why won't you leave me alone?"

Emma shrugged, seemingly unfazed by her anger and, truth be told, it only served to _piss her off_ even more. Her fingers flexed at her side and she sneered. "Go. Away," she hissed, watching the blonde's throat constrict as it swallowed and wondering how the movement would feel against her palm.

"Okay," Emma said, and shrugged again before she turned and walked away. "See you."

Regina watched, baffled. If she had known ridding herself of her vexation was _that_ simple, she would have done it sooner. Much, much sooner.

"Stop!"

She started, realizing the shout had come from herself and to her surprise—and horror—Emma _did_. Wracking her brain for a reason, an explanation for whatever torture she was about to put herself through, her mouth opened and—"Turn around," she demanded, crossing her arms as she waited for Emma to comply.

Once again Emma did and for a reason unknown even to herself, Regina began walking forward. "What do you want," she repeated, receiving nothing more than another shrug in answer, not missing the ripple of the blonde's jaw as if she had an answer but didn't dare speak it.

"Emma Swan," she intoned, voice firm and holding none of her confusion as she reached out and grabbed the blonde by the chin. "You will answer me, or so help me…"

Emerald eyes flashed with something—something she thought she recognized but was tentative to name as her mind reasoned it to be nothing more than a trick of light. "Do you want to be _friends_?" she jeered, unwilling to extend even an ounce of patience. "Is it too much; losing day in and day out to someone intellectually superior? Are you tired of always trying to get one up on someone you never stood a chance against to begin with?"

Unfair, hurtful, cruel; were the words that ran through her head as she spoke. She never was one who handled confusion well—Archie had once claimed it was a fear of the unknown. Emma simply offered her a smile and pulled from a grip that loosened with each passing second.

"No," was all she said before she turned for the second time, hands shoved into her pockets as she sauntered across the road to her car.

* * *

 

No one knew Regina Mills better than Emma, but the knowledge wasn't enough to stop the tears being more than a mere threat as she slipped inside the bug. As soon as she pulled the door closed, her cheeks were wet and she placed a hand on her chest, rubbing circles as she reminded herself of the first year she came to Storybrooke; going head to head with the unpredictable Mayor and never really understanding _why_ until the brunette had snapped, admitting her fears in a fit of explosive, wholly irrational rage.

Regina liked to make people miserable when she herself was feeling defensive, and the words she'd uttered minutes ago hadn't surprised Emma in the least. She had spotted the exact moment the Evil Queen reared back to strike, her aim not quite right; a minor stomach wound rather than targeting the jugular, as was the case in the days of old.

Taking a deep, cleansing breathe, she wiped the tracks from her cheeks and straightened with a sniff. She had decided the night in the diner, when she'd finally put a name to the feelings that churned in her gut as she watched Regina walk away from her, convinced she would forever suffer the Curse of Good Intentions, that she would never again interfere in the woman's life without strict invitation.

Hanging her head, she shook it after a moment and started the car. While she never intended to hurt Regina, she accepted that saving Marian's life had certain consequences. It had been an eye opening experience and one she had kept to herself. Whatever friendship she and Regina were on the road to before she fell through the portal had been… complicated, and she was still trying to let the brunette be; to not push her into anything, to let her make her own choices and truly—for once in her life—control her own destiny.

Emma was in love with her. Head over heels, would do absolutely anything to make Regina happy _in love_ and while she would give her last breath to be able to shout it from the rooftops, she knew there needed to be more. Regina no longer trusted her, would never believe that the one responsible for so much of her heartache loved her and so, that was how Emma treated their interactions.

Distant, resigned but hopeful.

When Snow came to her, expressing a desire for all of them to spend at least once a week together, Emma had nodded, smiled and told her she thought it was a great idea. Regina wasn't even speaking to her at that point, but everyone knew that with a word from Henry, Regina would go along with whatever he wanted and she had.

Hence Sunday lunches.

With the exception of that afternoon, neither had missed a single one and over time, they began speaking. Minor things at first; terse greetings and brusque comments—at least from Regina's end. Emma tended to accept everything in stride, returning all the _Miss Swan_ s with nonchalant _Hey_ s and shrugging off the less than kind remarks. Most of them revolved around the fact she accepted a 'courtship' from the pirate, as Regina referred to Killian almost all the time and only served to reinforce Emma's belief that there was something between them.

Raging jealousy aside, she knew Regina wouldn't accept or even acknowledge such, not when their 'relationship' consisted of nothing more than petty barbs and silly little challenges. As far as the two of them were concerned, their time spent together was reminiscent of the months before the first curse broke. She had labelled their current stage as the "August Phase" in which Regina would speak more than a few words to her but only if it was important—work, Henry—or served to degrade her in some way.

Last night was a case of one step forward, two steps back. Though she supposed it'd be closer to three steps back after what just happened. She sighed, pulling in to her driveway and climbing from the car with a forced smile for Michael who waved at her from his garage.

Leaning against the driver side door, she stared across the lawn to where she'd stacked the planks she cut earlier and ran a hand through her hair. There were a number of hours left before it'd be too dark to work and as distraction was what she needed, she pushed away from the car, putting Regina out of her mind for a time as she tugged off her jacket and tossed it over her workbench as music filled the air.

Let me loose, I just got back.

I was pushed and I got dragged.

I tasted mud, I tasted wine;

I've kissed the life I've left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [Demolition Man](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwiy0q7Jl8fKAhUBt5QKHcUhBGcQyCkIHDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D44DfEwwQiIs&usg=AFQjCNEFHzwBGEsPzy-Sqml4-Qxpi_oQBg&sig2=btoWjWmiBEfgN_JWvasZAw&bvm=bv.112766941,d.dGo)


	3. Chapter 3

With a sneer up at the sky, Regina shook the water from her umbrella and yanked the door to the station open. Stepping inside, a shiver shook her body and she bared her teeth. For three days, it had done nothing but rain and she was growing sick of it. Outside of work, the terrible weather left very little to do and she had found the blonde nuisance to be a constant on her mind. To make matters worse, _someone_ had decided it was the perfect opportunity to vandalize her town and neither the Sheriff nor deputies seemed to be doing their jobs by finding the culprits.

And that was why, after her semi-tolerable lunch with Gold, she had driven the five minute walk from the diner to the station, feeling both dread and hope that she would see the object of her thoughts after three days without. Unless one considered the half a second where she spotted tight black jeans and horrid red leather disappear into the apartment building that housed Snow White and her insipid Prince an adequate viewing, which Regina most certainly did not.

Marching into the office as though she owned the place—she might as well—she frowned. Usually one could find the Sheriff sat at one of the desks, either shovelling food into her mouth or wasting perfectly decent paper. Footsteps echoed from down the hall and she spun in place, ready to give the blonde the third degree before her mouth snapped shut and a glare rested on her face at the sight of the one who appeared in the doorway.

"It wasn't me," David said, holding up his hands in surrender. When she didn't respond and continued glaring, he squinted. "I _think_ it wasn't me?"

Regina rolled her eyes and huffed through her nose. "Where is the Sheriff—and why am I still paying her when she's never here doing her job?"

"Ah." He smiled and explained, "She's sick, and I offered to cover for her until she feels better. Did you need something that maybe I could help with?"

Not thinking, she questioned, "Is she ok? Is someone with her? You know how she—" _is at looking after herself_ , her mind finished as her jaw clicked shut upon seeing David's expression, which resembled someone who'd realized they were face to face with a science experiment gone wrong.

He stared.

She dared him to say something.

He looked away, and the moment ended.

"I'm here in regards to the vandalism I've been hearing complaints about," she stated, annoyed—and confused, _again_. "I would like to know if anyone has bothered to do anything about it."

"Right," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he found something interesting to look at over her shoulder. "Turns out a few of the Lost Boys were bored and… well, they'll be starting their community service on the weekend—Emma was doing the paperwork because she said my writing is like trying to read something written by a 90 year old with Parkinson's—whatever that is."

Regina snorted. His writing was almost as atrocious as the cloying little catchphrase he shared with his wife. "Very well," she drawled and moved passed him, adding, "Back to work, Charming," over her shoulder as she exited the office.

* * *

 

Returning from her hourly trip to the bathroom, Emma threw herself onto her bed and groaned before forcing herself up against the headboard. With her sinuses blocked and the migraine to end all migraines, laying down was about as useful as a G-rated porno. All she wanted to do was sleep, and maybe whine a little to someone who would at the very least pretend to care about her self-inflicted misery.

When the knock came at her door, she released another tortured groan. "Mom, I told you I don't need—" Tugging open the door, her brow furrowed and she cut herself off. "You're not my mother."

"Thank heavens," Regina drawled sarcastically. "My greatest nightmare has been avoided for another day, hallelujah."

Emma rolled her eyes. "What—" She sneezed, barely managing to cover her mouth in time and Regina's face contorted in a way that made her think the brunette was about to slap her. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. What are you doing here?"

Shoulders lifted in a shrug and in a bored tone, Regina replied, "Your father informed me of your ill health."

Emma's eyes dropped to the container Regina held in her hands and she murmured, "That doesn't really answer my question," as her stomach rolled at the thought of eating anything in that moment.

Eyebrow raised, Regina extended the container and waited until she took it before she said, "He also mentioned you were the one in charge of the paperwork for the boys who vandalized my town… You look awful, by the way."

"Thanks," Emma called from halfway across the room, surprised she could still move as fast. She stopped at the door to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to throw the container as far from her as possible, but placing it on the small table because upsetting Regina? She'd pass on that; done being an idiot for a while.

As she stumbled into the bathroom and dropped to the floor in front of the toilet, she heard the familiar snick of the door to her room close and wondered if Regina had stayed or taken the opportunity to flee, and then wretched violently. "Oh god, I want to die."

She started at the sigh from somewhere behind her and then jerked as hands gathered her hair, pulling it back from around her face. "Idiot," Regina muttered.

Emma questioned silently if there was fondness in the tone, or if she was imagining it due to her obvious fever, and then her stomach lurched, turning her attention to a much less desirable distraction. Sounds she could only assume were those of disgust filled the room as she emptied the contents of her stomach for the third time that afternoon, knuckles turning white as she clutched the sides of the porcelain bowl.

"Ugh," she whined. "How is this happening? I haven't even eaten anything."

While one hand saved her hair from certain ruin, she felt a second on her back, soothing her as it stroked up and down her spine, and she sighed once the worst of her predicament passed. She pressed her cheek against the cool plastic of the toilet seat and released a shuddered breath as the hand kept moving, confusing but also mesmerizing and relaxing in its movement.

She closed her eyes and the hand in her hair loosened, freeing blonde curls from its grip as it slipped beneath them to massage her neck. It crossed her mind to question why Regina was being nice to her, but then she still had memories of all the times their son had been sick. She knew they were Regina's memories, and that no matter the mood she remembered being in, those motherly instincts tended to override all else once she caught wind of even the slightest possibility her 'little Prince' might be ill.

It stood to reason the same might occur when it came to her. Even if Regina still insisted she despised her, there were times when it was obvious the woman cared for her in some way. Whatever the reason, and no matter how Regina chose to excuse her actions later, Emma decided it was nice and enjoyed it a little while longer.

At least, that was what she planned to do, until she realized the ministrations were sending her to sleep and the last thing she wanted was to wake later with her head in the toilet. "I—" She hesitated. She _really_ didn't want Regina to stop. "I think it might be safe now."

The hand squeezed before the weight of the presence to the side and slightly behind her disappeared. She opened her eyes and raised her head, unfolding herself from around the toilet before she gingerly stood. Regina grabbed her by the elbow as she swayed, and she offered the brunette a faint smile of thanks as she staggered over to the sink.

"I apologise for the soup," Regina said, taking pity on the blonde and moving over to the sink when she noted Emma's headache prevented her from bending down to retrieve the painkillers underneath. "Your father failed to mention you had food poisoning."

Emma hummed, rinsing the acrid taste from her mouth before she downed the two white pills Regina dropped into her palm. "In his defence, he doesn't know," she admitted. "And according to Whale, it's more a combination of food poisoning, a chest infection and the flu."

When silence was all that greeted her words, Emma turned her head to find Regina was staring at her; a combination of exasperation, curiosity and disbelief in her expression.

"How on earth…" Regina started, only to trail off and Emma swallowed, certain she was about to be in trouble for _something_ as dark eyes narrowed. "I knew you were stubborn, Miss Swan, but this is simply ridiculous."

Emma shrugged, a small smile curving her lips as she brushed passed the brunette and entered her room. "I had to go into the town over for a few materials for the playground at the school and stopped at a gas station, bought something I shouldn't have—voila, food poisoning."

Taking a seat on the bed, she noted the raised eyebrow and continued, "When I came back and started working on the playground… Well, kids are little fleshy sacks of germs and I'm sure the fact it started raining didn't help much."

Regina sighed, shaking her head as she said, "Fascinating, but I fail to see your reason for isolating yourself from everyone and not accepting help. I imagine your mother has tried by the way you greeted me earlier—why did you send her away?"

Emma wrinkled her nose at the mention of her mother. Snow White _hovered_ , that's why. "I don't like being fussed over," she stated, scratching the side of her nose. "I'm used to taking care of myself."

Snatching the box of tissues from the dresser, Regina tossed them to her and Emma freed a handful in time to muffle an explosive sneeze, grinning at the disgusted look Regina fixed her with. "Thanks," she said, wondering how she knew.

"Henry does the exact same thing," Regina answered and, truth be told, Emma felt a little creeped out by the fact the brunette could apparently read minds now before Regina distracted her with her next words. "I'm afraid I can't, in good conscience, allow you to remain here by yourself, Miss Swan."

* * *

 

An hour later and after multiple senseless arguments Regina refused to partake in—it shocked her too, but she reasoned it pointless to snipe at an invalid—she ushered the blonde into the guest bedroom and came downstairs in time to see the front door open as her son walked in.

"Henry." She smiled. "How was school?"

"Boring," he replied, toeing off his shoes with a shrug. He smiled at her as she stood before him, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "What's for dinner?"

Biting her lip, her eyes rose to the ceiling. She'd been considering the question for a good half an hour, knowing how the smell of anything she cooked tended to travel through the house and not wanting to cause the blonde any more distress than she was already experiencing. "I haven't decided yet," she answered, sighing as he shot her a curious look.

"Your mother is here," she explained, holding up a hand as his eyes lit with excitement and his mouth opened. "She's sick and I didn't think staying at the bed and breakfast by herself would do her any good, so I… convinced her to stay here until she feels better."

"I knew you cared about her," he sing-songed and she rolled her eyes as she followed him into the den.

"Yes, I care about the woman who gave birth to you; how terrible of me," she deadpanned.

He smirked, and she sighed again because yes; they'd had this argument countless times in the past whenever he caught her doing something not entirely beneficial to herself and up until this point, she had always denied any positive feelings she might have felt towards the blonde. She had let him win for once, and he knew it.

"It's okay if you like her, Mom," he told her, rummaging through his backpack for his homework as he plopped onto the couch. "She's pretty cool, even though she's a dork most of the time."

Regina snorted. Emma _was_ a dork most of the time, cracking jokes and generally being an idiot. It used to irritate her more than anything but over the months and through numerous lunches together, she'd started to find the blonde's behaviour somewhat… endearing, of all things. She'd been discovering things about herself she'd avoided thinking about and she was starting to realize that when she wasn't actively trying to dislike her, Emma Swan wasn't quite the barbaric vexation she thought.

That didn't mean she needed to concede another defeat, however, and she dismissed her son's words as she turned on her heel and left the room. He wouldn't follow, nor would he seek her out as the first two hours after school were reserved solely for homework. It wasn't her rule, it was his and it was simply another thing that made her proud to be his mother—even more so when it gave her much needed time to come up with arguments to dissuade his no doubt future relentlessness in regards to insisting she found the presence of his blonde mother in the least bit tolerable.

Making her way upstairs, she entered the guest bedroom where she'd dumped the blonde upon returning home, and frowned at the sight that greeted her. Rather than being _in_ the bed _resting_ as she had suggested, Emma was sat, crossed-legged and bent over some form of paperwork with a seemingly permanent scowl attached to her features.

Bringing a hand to her temple, Regina rubbed the warning ache there before she cleared her throat. Emma's head snapped up, a grimace of pain replacing the scowl, which was then replaced with wide eyes upon realising she'd been caught. The pen dropped to the bed and she straightened, an expression of contrition on her face.

"Please don't yell," she pleaded, lower lip jutting with a pout as Regina only responded with a sigh and a gesture toward the papers scattered over the bed.

Purple smoke swirled about them, organising them into a neat pile that was then transferred to the bedside table. "This may be difficult for you to understand, Miss Swan, but you are sick; that means you need to rest and avoid things that may prohibit your recovery—including attempting to decipher your father's atrocious handwriting."

Regina held up a hand when Emma opened her mouth to protest, signalling that she wasn't finished. "Furthermore, if you insist on being the stubborn, idiotic fool who ignores my advice; I will _force-feed_ you the most ghastly tonic you will ever have the displeasure of tasting and you will have no choice but to sleep twenty-two hours at a time for the next week."

Lips pursed, Emma scooted back against the headboard and slipped her legs back between sheets. Regina nodded, satisfied the blonde might actually listen as she turned on her heel and—"Wait."

She stopped. So close, she thought and turned yet again, eyebrow cocked. "Would you like a bedtime story?" she questioned, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "A warm glass of milk, perhaps?"

"I'd call you an ass but considering…" Emma waved a hand about the room. Regina smirked. "Anyway, I was just wondering if I could at least listen to music; it helps me sleep and it would distract me from this mind-numbing boredom that is, apparently, enforced bed rest."

With a simple gesture of the hand, Emma's iPod dock appeared atop her paperwork. "Having experienced the displeasure of what you consider music, I would appreciate it if you kept the volume to a less obnoxious level than usual."

Emma rolled her eyes, reaching for her iPod as she said, "Her Majesty doesn't like classic rock, how shocking."

"For your information I happen to enjoy Led Zepp…"

"Ugh," Emma interrupted, face scrunched in distaste. "This is why we can never be friends."

Expression deadpan, Regina retorted, "And here I thought it was because I don't _want_ to be your friend."

Emma scoffed and slid the rest of the way down the bed, one hand curled in the duvet tucked just beneath her chin. She poked her tongue at the brunette and pressed play, the beginning of Heat of the Moment by Asia starting as she set the iPod beside her pillow.

"Goodnight, Regina."

Regina forced a smirk as she turned to leave, lips down-turned by the time the door closed behind her. "Goodnight, Emma," she murmured to herself.

 

I never meant to be so bad to you;

One thing I said that I would never do.

One look from you and I would fall from grace,

And that would wipe this smile right from my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [Heat of the Moment](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjN0O7Ql8fKAhUCH5QKHV7tDBsQyCkIHTAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DcpxsMyoXUZQ&usg=AFQjCNFHKnYkB3tUoZTwneBu2dtTequgtg&sig2=6DV7RAV-OK774Z1sCc_0cQ)


	4. Chapter 4

Emma woke twice from sleep.

Once was due to a coughing fit that pulled her from a strange dream she no longer remembered. She hadn't been able to breathe much. Her nose was blocked, her lungs felt close to bursting and to top it all off, she'd woken Regina who had thrown open the door to the guestroom and practically forced something sickly sweet down her throat.

The second was to the pitter patter of rain against the windows and a smell she couldn't quite place, but was certain she should recognize. As she laid there, having found her way to the couch in the den in the earlier hours of the morning, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to convince her brain that it was time to get up.

It was as the cloud started to lift from her mind that she realized she shouldn't be able to smell at all, and she sniffed for good measure, smiling as she realized the scent was that of coffee—coffee that didn't make her stomach roll with nausea. She tried to sit up but groaned the moment she moved.

Whatever Regina had given her had fixed some things, but she wasn't quite there yet and with a sigh, she tugged the blanket at her waist up over her shoulders and rolled to her side.

Wrapped in a warm cocoon of cashmere, she decided she didn't want to get up anyway. She couldn't recall much, but she distinctly remembered feeling feverish and therefore forgoing any sort of cover when she came downstairs, which meant one of two people had found her this morning. She loved her son, of course, but a small part of her hoped it was Regina as her smile widened at the thought.

She drifted on the edge of awareness, enjoying the simple pleasure that was breathing as she listened to the rain coming down hard. It had turned from a light drizzle to an almost thunderous downpour, and she knew she wouldn't be able to return to sleep anytime soon. As much as she loved the rain—and she _really_ loved it—sleeping when it was like this was virtually impossible, sickness be damned.

"Are you awake yet?" Emma shifted, head bowed at an odd angle toward the voice as she cracked an eye open. Regina moved closer and set the mug in her hand on the table as she questioned, "How do you feel?"

Eyes straying from warm, chestnut eyes to the steam rising from the cup, Emma almost purred at the hint of mint that permeated the air. "I can smell that," she replied, voice hoarse with an unspoken want.

Regina chuckled. "I've found that a few drops of alcohol with my coffee in the morning sometimes helps when under the weather," she explained, offering a helping hand when Emma tried and failed to sit up again. "Think you can stomach it?"

The thought hadn't nauseated her and Emma grinned weakly, accepting the cup as Regina retrieved it from the table and passed it to her. She sighed, content to inhale the steam a moment before taking a sip, and groaning in pleasure. The last time she'd tried coffee was two days ago—she'd barely made it to the bathroom before expelling the whole thing along with her previous meal.

Regina gestured and, catching the movement from the corner of her eye, Emma glanced down. She laughed softly at the sudden appearance of a bucket beside her foot. "Thanks," she said, nodding to the cup as she added, "For this, and earlier this morning—most of yesterday too, I guess."

"You guess," Regina repeated, her words tinged with amusement. "I'm nursing you back to health, Miss Swan, the very _least_ I deserve is your gratitude."

Emma rolled her eyes. She hadn't _asked_ for her help. In fact, she'd protested— _a lot_ , all to no avail. Still, she did appreciate it, more so because it was _Regina_ of all people. "Yeah yeah, my hero and all that."

"Your retorts have always been lacking," Regina drawled with a smirk. "But I'll accept the fact you're making the effort to mean you're feeling better—compared to earlier this morning, at least."

Ignoring the jab, Emma nodded. "I am," she admitted, sinking deeper into the couch as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of it. She'd barely managed a quarter of the drink and already, she was feeling its effects. "Good coffee," she mumbled around a yawn.

Regina chuckled again and took the cup from her hands. Emma tried to protest as she was coaxed into lying back down, but the outcome was ultimately the same as all the other times she'd tried to resist being bossed around by the other mother of her son. She sighed and burrowed deep back into her blanket, drifting back to sleep with Regina's whisper in her ears.

"Sweet dreams, Princess."

* * *

 

Regina wandered off to her study once Emma began snoring. The feelings that started to surface from listening to the sound were beyond annoying and although she had technically taken a day off to watch over her sick guest, she did still have work to do that wouldn't complete itself while she sat across from the blonde and watched her sleep.

Not only had she been assaulted by the disturbing idea that Emma snoring was somehow appealing, she realised soon after that what she was doing could have been considered unnerving at the very least. Whether or not that was the case in regards to Emma's personal opinion on the matter, she decided she had no desire to stick around to find out and promptly left the den without sparing it another thought.

Well, that had been her plan.

Unfortunately her mind seemed to have other ideas and despite her attempts not to dwell on them, the thoughts continued to harass her. She was at a point that she wished it was late afternoon instead of late morning because then she'd be able to justify drinking something a lot stronger than the coffee sitting on her desk.

She huffed.

Why, oh _why_ had she been so insistent on Emma coming to stay with her? People were sick all the time—people she knew—some of them she even _liked_ , and yet taking care of _them_ had never even occurred to her. She had never voluntarily taken care of _anyone_ bar Henry, and he was her _son_ for crying out loud.

Okay, fine; she cared about Emma. She had admitted as much to Henry the day before, and she could admit it to herself now. Emma Swan was a clumsy, thoughtless fool who had a talent for sticking her foot in her mouth but she was also a brave, selfless idiot who constantly put herself in the way of danger to protect the ones she loved—and even those she barely liked.

She was just _so damned confused_. Emma was an adult, she could take care of herself but the mere sight of her; looking far more pathetic than usual—Regina had felt _compelled_ to do something to fix her. Emma had looked weak and helpless, and something inside of her had just snapped.

It was Henry; the Exorcist Days all over again, minus the projectile vomit all over her favourite blouse.

Sighing, she turned her chair to face the window and glared outside. If the weather weren't so miserable, she could be out in her garden. It was the one place in her dreary little town that allowed her the peace to empty her mind while she tended her flowers, embracing an ignorance to self and everything else until the inevitable return of her smug, darling little prince.

Henry had been a complete brat that morning. As soon as he saw Emma on the couch, he came running into the kitchen and fixed her with this _look_. _"You_ do _care about her,"_ he'd said. She hadn't understood, she'd thought they'd covered that already with the conversation they had yesterday, but then he pointed out the fact the blanket she'd draped over Emma upon coming downstairs was one of her favourites and that she never even let _him_ use it.

Her beautiful boy was becoming the waking version of her recent nightmares and the worst part was; she found his interest in his mothers relationship to be _endearing_. At first, she worried that he had unrealistic expectations but the simple idea that she and Emma could eventually become _friends_ seemed to light up his entire face.

With each day, trying to deny Emma a position in her life was growing harder and his constant needling only complicated her efforts to correct what she perceived as a mistake. Emma had already ruined her life and proved herself untrustworthy, so why couldn't she hold on to that? Why did the possibility of forgiveness _tempt_ her, rather than infuriate her, as she thought it should?

Somehow, Emma had earned another chance and Regina wished she could pinpoint the moment that fact sprouted into existence because she would very much like to _undo_ it. All Emma did was avoid her and when she wasn't able to do that, she was—docile, for lack of a better word.

They no longer fought because Emma refused her every challenge, brushing off her insults no matter how deep they might've cut at the time. Emma was subservient— _weak_ but somehow… not. Regina knew better than most that restraint took considerable strength and if their anger-fuelled interactions over the past couple of years was any indication, Emma was now apparently the strongest person she knew.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe she hadn't forgiven Emma. As much as it might pain her to admit, she had always been attracted to strength—to power. She was raised to respect those who made wielding it seem effortless and although she had fought against the teachings of her childhood; this was one lesson that had never quite left her.

If her restraint wasn't strength enough, Emma also had magic and an intellect contrary to her genetic makeup. For all her bad habits, for someone who was attracted to that kind of power; Emma Swan was more or less perfect, and that thought had Regina shooting to her feet.

"No," she denied vehemently. "That is simply ridiculous."

* * *

 

"Hey Ma."

Emma smiled at her son and patted the cushion beside her, ignoring the way her stomach protested as he threw himself down. She could sit up on her own now, but the nausea had returned with a vengeance and it was a struggle not to bury her head in the bucket still sat at her feet.

"Hey kid," she replied, forcing down the bile rising in her throat and closing her eyes. She hadn't thrown up again yet, which she assumed was a good sign, but she wasn't about to risk letting the headache pounding behind her eyes undo all Regina's work to make her feel better. "Where's your mom?"

"In the kitchen," he said. He reached for the glass of water on the table and she cracked an eye open as she felt the cool press of the lip against her mouth. "She told me to make sure you were still drinking."

Lifting a hand, she took the glass from his fingers and raised her head. She sipped, sighing as the water soothed her throat. It had been idiotic to think Regina leaving the room for a few minutes would mean she could get away with not listening to her. _"Fluids are important."_ More important than keeping what scarce contents remained in her stomach from making an unfortunate reappearance, evidently.

Three sips was her limit and she handed the glass back to him, watching as he leaned forward and placed it back on the table before he curled into her side. "She seems weird," he murmured, draping an arm across her waist.

"This whole situation is weird," Emma reminded, sliding an arm around his neck. "Your mother has convinced herself that taking care of me—someone she obviously despises—is somehow her burden to bear. I think whatever weirdness you might be feeling from her is… understandable."

His head shook against her shoulder. "She doesn't despise you," he sighed. "She _hates_ it when people are sick—even when it's me. If she didn't at least like you, you wouldn't be here."

Emma grinned, letting the thought comfort her before eventually dismissing it with a sigh of her own. "I'm sure her taking care of me has more to do with you than me. She's probably worried you'll catch something with all the time we spend together."

Regina walked in before he could tell her she was wrong, eyebrow cocked as she noticed the two of them cuddled up together. Emma stifled a whimper with a hand over her mouth and nose, stomach rolling at the scent originating from the tray she placed on the table. Her discomfort, of course, meant Regina had something else to focus on and her eyes narrowed as she spoke.

"I realise the thought of eating something may not agree with you, but I'm afraid I must insist this time." Emma opened her mouth to refuse, but the words were halted by a raised hand and Regina continued, "I've brought you something that should help."

Henry jerked upright and Regina chuckled as Emma looked, confused, between the two of them. Regina retrieved the smaller of the two bowls from the tray and handed it to him, patting him on the cheek as he fist pumped the air. "You gotta try this, Ma," he said before shoving a spoonful of what looked to Emma like plain old chicken soup into his mouth.

Head tilted curiously, her hand dropped into her lap and she glanced to Regina. "Do you put spells on your soup or something?"

"I make them from scratch with my own special ingredients," Regina explained, smirking at their son's lack of propriety as he devoured his helping. "If you know your soup, you'll notice a distinct difference in flavouring. You're not allergic to garlic, I hope?"

Emma frowned and leaned forward, shaking her head. Regina grabbed her hand before she could take the bowl, pressing a small vial into her palm. "Drink this first—slowly. It'll line your stomach and hopefully prevent you from throwing up all over my lovely rug."

Swallowing down the lump that formed at her touch, Emma cleared her throat and pulled her hand back, clutching the little blue vial. Regina said nothing as she turned and left the room, though Emma was blindsided by the smile she offered her over a shoulder before she disappeared from sight.

"She cares about you, Ma," Henry said around a mouthful of soup and she nodded.

"I'm starting to think you might be right."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is actual singing in this one--well, rapping. I was iffy about keeping it, but aryousavvy liked it and I'm still writing this because of her so... she wins.

 

 

The music coming from the kitchen had Regina smirking as she tossed her keys into the bowl by the door. Either Emma sick meant a whole new genre of music, or Henry had taken possession of her iPod and bombarded it with what he liked to call _not old people_ songs. Ever since he'd heard Emma listening to Van Halen, he'd moved on from tormenting Reginaabout her feelings to tormenting Emma about her taste—or lack thereof.

As she moved from the foyer and closer to the kitchen, she realised with a start that he was actually _singing_ , if one could call rapidly spouting words such. She leaned against the door frame, eyes roaming from Emma who sat at the island counter, to Henry who bobbed his head in time to the beat where he stood in front of the stove.

"I'm on an island by my lonesome stranded; low key and staying' candid. Reflect on all the things I try my hand at. Search for the equations to persuasions I'm used to. Finding comfort in the zones of closet bones I get loose to. A mountainous fountain. Spinning' and monsooning, grinning—its high octane; explosive how I came. Rollin' down hills 'cause life's a hassle, encircled by my folly like a moat surround a castle. Stay afloat, catch a second wind. Thin is the air I breathe, teary eyed nose running; wipe the snot on my sleeve. I'm calling' on the Savior to be all that I need; please forgive me, my behaviour had me lost at light speed."

Regina stared, mouth open and wide eyed. She had no idea her son could rap, much less do it _well_ and what's more; the words sounded oddly reminiscent. Her jaw snapped shut with a click as Emma's voice rose above the music and she clapped a hand over her mouth, overwhelmed with the need to vocalise her shock.

"The fear of never falling in love and the tears after losing the feelings of what you thought love was. Like the dirt still up under the rug."

My life be like…

"Bad characteristics covered in Christ's blood. The joy of new birth and the pain of growing up. The bliss between giving my all and giving up. The highs and lows, paths and roads I chose; in the cold I froze trying to ease my woes. In this world of sin, clothes too thin to fend; so to God I send words of help to win. In grumblings so deep letters could never express, so the sound of ooh aah beneath my breath projects."

Lost in their world of music, neither of them noticed Regina step into the room and Emma almost jumped out of her seat when she slid onto the stool beside her. She started to apologise when Emma gave a fervent shake of her head, lifting a finger to her mouth which she then pointed at their son's back.

"My life be like; ooh aah ooh dum dum ditty," Henry continued to sing, "here come that boy from the Capital City. Last up on the Grits new ditty, but eight bars of the truth will do. I believe there's a bride that's stunning, and I believe in the Kingdom Coming. I believe if you seek the truth, you don't need to look far 'cause it's gonna find you…"

"Ma!" Henry spun around. "You're supposed to si…" He trailed off, realising why Emma hadn't joined in as he noted his brunette mother sitting beside her and watching him with a look caught somewhere between shock, pride and amusement as Emma turned off the iPod. "Uh… Hi Mom."

"Hello sweetheart," Regina grinned, ignoring his embarrassed groan as he turned his back to her and she teased, "If you two are thinking of trying out for Karaoke night at the Rabbit Hole, I'm afraid you're still too young."

"This is your fault, Ma," he whined, shaking his head.

Emma hummed. "You're the one who kept badgering me about my music and then dragged me out of bed to come down here and make sure you didn't burn the house down. I'm sick, you should know better than to listen to my ideas."

"I take it you've both done this before," Regina prodded and caught Emma's shrug from the corner of her eye, drawing her attention back to the blonde. "Is this another one of those New York things?"

"Yeah," Emma replied, rising from her stool and walking to the fridge. She pulled out the large jug of blackcurrant juice Regina made for her that morning before work. Regina cocked an eyebrow and Emma sighed. "What?"

"You've managed to keep all of that down?"

Emma nodded, dropping back to the stool and refilling her glass. "You were right," she said, rolling her eyes at the complete lack of surprise Regina showed for it. "All that soup you've been feeding me did help."

"Good. I'm glad," Regina replied, dismissing the blank stare she received in return as she gestured to Henry. "What exactly is our son cooking?"

"Burgers," Henry interjected, turning his head. He grinned wide and successfully distracted his mom from noticing Emma's conflicted expression. "I asked Ma if she would take me to the diner, but she said you'd be less likely to kill her if she taught me how to make my own."

He knew the lie would get Emma's attention and when she scowled playfully at him, he winked and went back to his burgers. Their exchange went unseen by Regina who turned her head as Emma sighed once more. "Are you alright?"

Her confusion about her feelings remained, but after yesterday when Henry convinced her to let Emma stay with them until she'd finished renovating the house on Elm Street, she decided that hiding her concern for the woman was pointless considering all she'd done for her over the past couple of days.

Emma smiled softly and inclined her head. "Just thinking, and yes it still hurts," she joked, averting her gaze and staring down at her glass when she noted the slight twinkle in caramel eyes.

Paying close to attention to Regina had never really been a problem for her, but ever since the revelation in the den with Henry, Emma wondered how badly she must have slipped focus to miss all the signs that the loathing she thought Regina felt for her wasn't entirely real.

Despite what their son believed, she knew there was still some level of mistrust there—some form of hurt that Regina had yet to find a way to cope with that didn't involve lashing out. Emma had apologised, countless times. She never defended her actions or explained what she'd thought at the time, knowing she hadn't really been thinking at all.

She apologised, yes, but it was about the consequences in the wake of what she'd done. She never intended to hurt Regina but while she would like to claim she wouldn't do it again if she were given a do-over, she would. Her reasons wouldn't change a thing, therefore those apologies seemed meaningless and she had buried them deep, somewhere in the back of her mind where they would never reach her tongue.

If she could promise one thing, it was that she'd never lie to Regina. Omit the truth from time to time when the situation called for it, such as it had seconds earlier? Maybe, but she wouldn't lie and as soon as she figured out how to get back into Regina's good graces—

Well, the truth would come out eventually.

* * *

 

Regina sat on the couch, trying her hardest to feign interest in the little characters running across the screen as Henry played his video game beside her. She thought Emma leaving for a couple of hours to supervise her father and their little helpers on the house would give her some time to reassert herself, but she was quickly realizing the weirdest thing; she actually _missed_ the infuriating idiot. She _worried_ that Emma going out now would jeopardize her recovery, and even had the audacious thought to _call her back_ and demand she wait until she was at a hundred percent.

Emma had been there for less than a week and, though she tried to tell herself it was insane, somewhere along the line Regina started to enjoy the extra company. It was absolute madness for her to agree to Henry's idea of letting the woman stay with them, yet she had done so with almost no objections whatsoever.

Sure, she had suggested Emma might be more comfortable staying with her parents, or that Granny had allowed Emma to stay at the B&B for free and perhaps she should take advantage of it, but those arguments had been half-hearted at best. She realised with a start that she'd wantedEmma to stay and while she hid it well behind a look of annoyance, the feeling she had when he asked was the closest thing to happiness she remembered in a long time.

As the words GAME OVER flashed across the screen, Henry quickly started a new game. He'd been watching his mother ever since he sat down, recognising the look she wore, too caught up in her thoughts to realise he was focused more on her than he was in keeping his character alive.

Usually, she'd have offered a strategy of some kind to help him out after the second game over but he'd run through the same dungeon at least three times now, and she hadn't said a word to him. He didn't think she realised it yet, but he was starting to see a pattern emerge when it came to Emma being absent—whether from the room or the house entirely, it didn't seem to matter.

A glazed look would enter her eyes and if he watched long enough, he'd catch a hint of a smile that sometimes blossomed into something beautiful and rare. It reminded him of the times when he'd come home from school, having accomplished something he could share with her; an A in Maths—the day he won the spelling bee, or even when Coach Fredrick suggested he try out for the soccer team.

Soccer was a disaster, but still his Mom was always so proud of him and that smile always made him feel good about himself. Now when he saw it, he still felt good but it was in an entirely different way. It wasn't pride that brought that smile to her face anymore, it was his Ma and _man_ was his mother blind or what?

He shook his head and decided then that he'd pretended long enough, making as much noise as possible as he turned off his game and put away the console. Emma would be home soon and since she was starting to get back her appetite, he thought it would be nice if they made her something for dinner.

When he finally stood and walked back to the couch, he stuck out his hand and a brow rose curiously. "Ma will be home soon," he hinted with a smile that grew as she clasped his hand without comment.

She rose, tugging him back as he made a move toward the kitchen. His confusion barely had time to set in before she pressed a kiss to his forehead and murmured, "If you'd focused less on me and more on your game, you wouldn't have died at all." She released his hand and patted his cheek, brushing passed with a chuckle as his face flushed.

* * *

 

Catching the cloth David threw to her, Emma wiped the evidence of her work from her brow with a grin. Regina warned her not to exert herself but after five days of bed rest, it felt good to be doing something productive for a change. That, and she didn't want to wear out her welcome. Being sick had put a damper on the house being finished as soon as she hoped, and she needed to make up for the lost time.

Her pocket vibrated and she reached in, pulling out her phone to see a text from her son. She smirked as she read his message: _Come home. We're making you dinner._ Her stomach grumbled in response to the words as another text came through.

_It's not soup_ , it read and Emma chuckled. If it _was_ soup, she wouldn't have minded considering it had to be the best damn chicken soup she'd ever had in her life. Shaking her head, she shoved the phone back into her pocket and when she looked up, she caught David staring at her with a curious smile.

"Henry has summoned me home for dinner," she explained, accepting the bottle he held out and taking a sip. "I should probably thank you for telling her I was sick."

His grin widened and he shrugged. "Don't mention it," he said. "Maybe when the two of you sort yourselves out, your mother and I can invite all three of you to dinner for a change."

"Dad," she sighed, rolling her eyes as he held up his hands in surrender. Sometimes she wondered why she told him anything.

"A little optimism never killed anyone," he reminded and pulled her into a hug. She groaned, somewhat half-heartedly. "Now go have dinner with your family, and remember to call your mother; she's driving me insane with you not telling her anything."

"Yeah yeah," she sighed, pulling from the embrace. Her mother drove everyone insane lately. _Must be the hormones_ , she thought. "I'll call her tomorrow, if I remember."

"Emma," her father chided and she laughed, throwing a wave over her shoulder. "Call her," he called after her. "Otherwise I'll suggest she visit you."

She mock gasped and turned as she opened the door to her bug. "Regina would _murder_ her," she retorted with a smirk. He nodded knowingly and waved her off, grinning as she shook her head and slipped inside the car. Snow would murder them both if she ever caught them joking about her best friend slash ex step-mother like that.

Emma grimaced at the thought and threw her car in reverse, flipping on the new stereo Michael had installed for her as she steered the bug toward Mifflin Street.

 

Got to meet the honey with million dollar body.

They say it's over budget,

But you'd pay her just to touch it.

Come on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [My Life be Like](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwj3z_3Wl8fKAhUDF5QKHX2zA30QyCkIHTAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dt-yCg-0-baE&usg=AFQjCNGCb5DDJCaS6Byn5m3Tb6kbeEVbgg&sig2=UzQ1PhlZCQ4NkJ8s4NcGDQ) / [Something in Your Mouth](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=8&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwj3m47el8fKAhXHipQKHQnwCnwQtwIISjAH&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dvt-UtzP1u1g&usg=AFQjCNFzpcma7j92QFF0b_MtdSBSKHhJpg&sig2=mzEAgFtldlfq-um7NEKyzQ)


	6. Chapter 6

Regina was in her study catching up on her paperwork when she heard a crash from somewhere in the house. The pen dropped from her hand as that same hand reached for her brow, pinching the bridge of her nose when the voice of her son filtered in to the room.

"Oh shit."

With a deep breath, she tried to stifle the outburst on the tip of her tongue but it came regardless the moment she opened her mouth. "Henry Daniel Swan Mills!"

She froze.

"Oh shit," came the words again, this time in a decidedly more feminine voice. The sound of footsteps followed and Regina sighed, hand covering her face as she shook her head. Bad enough Emma had heard the slip, now she was coming to—who knew what.

She wanted to vanish in a cloud of smoke but barely had time to consider it let alone _do_ it before the blonde head appeared in the door way. Emma wore her signature lopsided grin, hand rubbing the back of her neck as her expression turned sheepish. "Hi."

Regina rolled her eyes. The ridiculously cutesy feelings and thoughts whenever she saw the blonde were getting out of control. "What did you destroy this time?"

"I can fix it," Emma offered, biting her lip as dark eyes narrowed.

"I didn't ask if you could fix it," Regina replied, rising from her chair slowly. Her nostrils flared as Emma bolted and she ground her jaw, closing her eyes and seeking out the familiar thread that would take her to their son.

She disappeared from the study and reappeared beside Henry who jumped to his feet just as Emma entered. Ignoring their shared look of panic, she glanced down, and laughed as she recognised the broken shards scattered across the floor of her kitchen. There was no mistaking the hideously sickening flower pattern adorning the smashed dinner plates.

Frowning, she lifted her head and stared at the blonde. "How?" As far as she knew, the plates had been stacked high on top of the cupboards—out of sight, out of mind. Claiming it an accident would be truly baffling.

Emma blushed. "I uh," she paused and sighed. "I was showing off—horribly, as it turns out." She stepped forward, quickly adding, "I _can_ fix them."

Regina raised one hand as the other swept through the air. "I would really rather you didn't," she replied, smirking as the cupboard beneath the sink opened and the shards flew from the floor into the trash.

"In fact," she continued, teeth flashing as she gestured once more, closing the cupboard with a final clink. "If you could break the other five while you're here, I'd consider myself in your debt."

"Um," was all Emma managed before Regina glided passed, lips pursing as their shoulders brushed. She looked to Henry and realisation dawned at his grin. "My mother gave them to her, didn't she?"

"Uh huh."

She huffed, chuckling as the sound of Regina's laughter played on a loop through her head. "You couldn't have told me that before you dared me to levitate them?"

Henry shrugged. "You can't feel bad if you didn't know."

She had to concede that he had a point, though she wondered if she should reconsider agreeing to his help in befriending Regina if it was at the expense of her mother. Then again, if there was a chance she might hear Regina laugh like that again, what Snow didn't know probably wouldn't hurt.

But then again, again; that thought made her feel terrible and she sighed. "You think we could maybe do this without upsetting your grandmother?"

He tilted his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, squinting at some undefinable spot in the distance. Emma wanted to laugh. She knew, of course, that tormenting Snow was probably the easiest way to curry favour with Regina but she did actually love her mother and there was no way she would forgive herself for using her like that.

"I guess," he said after a while, scrunching up his face. "I mean if you wanna do this the _hard_ way."

"I think that might be for the best," she replied, laughing loudly as he shot her a look of exasperation. "It's mean to pick on a pregnant lady without at least telling her first."

"Oh yeah," he said, snapping his fingers as if just remembering he'd soon have an aunt. "Okay, we can leave grandma alone. How do you feel about the blue fairy?"

"Wholly indifferent," she answered with a smirk and not a single trace of shame.

* * *

 

The Swan-Mills trio filed into the diner that afternoon for their weekly lunch with Charming and Snow. Emma glanced around to see if her parents were there yet and when she didn't spot them, she led Regina and Henry to a booth by the window before making a beeline for the counter where Red stood, bent over conversing with just the woman Emma was hoping to run into.

Coming up to stand beside Tinkerbelle, she cleared her throat and both women glanced up, eyebrows rising in sync. She shook off the creepy feeling and offered them both a grin. "Hey Red, could I get two hot chocolates with cinnamon, and a coffee for Regina?"

"Sure, Em."

Emma slid on to the stool beside Tink and waited until Red was out of ear shot before she leaned into the blonde, voice low as she questioned, "You're not a huge fan of Blue, right?"

Tink chuckled and shook her head. "Not really, no. Why?"

"Well," Emma drawled, glancing over her shoulder and flashing Regina a grin when she saw the brunette looking their way. She turned back to the fairy and explained, "I'm kind of trying to cheer Regina up and—"

"Annoying Blue would work," Tink interjected, following along nicely as she mirrored Emma's grin with one of her own. "What's the plan?"

Seeing Red was almost done, Emma quickly filled her in on what she and Henry had come up with earlier that morning. Tink agreed to help and Emma thanked Red as she grabbed their drinks, unable to wipe the grin from her face as she moved back to their table. Henry widened his eyes in question and she nodded, ignoring the curious look Regina sent their way.

"Coffee for the Mayor," she teased, sliding in across from them. "And a hot chocolate with cinnamon for our Prince."

"And Princess," Henry added with a grin. Emma wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, still nurturing a significant dislike for the title despite its accuracy.

"Sheriff," she corrected.

"Savior," he countered and she stuck her tongue out in disgust, shaking her head. She'd take _Miss Swan_ over those two any day—not that she would admit that out loud, not _yet_ at least.

Hearing the bell above the door chime, she stole a glance over to Tinkerbelle who immediately stood as Snow and Charming entered. The two walked over to their table, oblivious to the fairy that rushed out of the diner behind them as Red emerged from the kitchen, scratching her head as she stared after her friend.

"She lives," Snow joked, slipping into the booth as Emma snapped back to attention and grinned in response.

"Regina is taking very good care of me," she fake whispered, wagging her eyebrows as Regina huffed across from her. "Seriously though, you're the size of a house."

"Emma," David scolded, scooting in beside Henry who shifted closer to Regina as Snow laughed and slapped her arm. "Be nice to your mother."

"Oh alright," she sighed in mock exasperation, nudging her mother playfully before she kissed her cheek. "Hello Mommy Dearest, you're looking beautifully rotund today."

Regina snorted, grabbing everyone's attention, and raising an eyebrow directed at no one in particular. "I don't know why you're all looking at me," she stated, curling her fingers around her cup of coffee and lifting it to her mouth with a nod to Emma. "She's the one who said it."

Emma smirked but said nothing in response, turning her head instead when she noticed Red approaching their table with a frown. "Hey Em, did Tink say anything about leaving to you?"

"Yeah," she lied easily. Tink hadn't said a thing, but Emma knew where she'd gone. "She said something about picking Blue up for lunch. She'll be back."

"Ah," Red nodded, sounding relieved as she snatched the notepad from the apron around her waist. "Well, while I wait," she grinned, "Can I take your orders?"

Once she'd gone through everyone and written down what they all wanted, Red sashayed off as Snow elbowed Emma in the ribs. "Ow," she complained with an exaggerated pout, rubbing her side. "Geez Mom, watch where you point those things."

"Don't be such a baby," Snow chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Are those two dating?"

Emma frowned. "Who? Red and Tink?" Snow nodded and Emma's smirk reappeared, tilting her hand in a so-so gesture as she said, "Something like that."

It occurred to her, briefly, to wonder why Snow would ask her and not Red herself considering their BFF status but by the scandalous look that crossed her mother's face, Emma had a fairly good guess and her mind turned from wondering, to questioning whether she should have lied and pretended not to know.

 _Too late now_ , she thought as the bell above the door chimed for the second time and Blue entered ahead of Tink. Judging by the look on her face, Emma figured Blue had already done or said something to upset Tink and she made a mental note to make it up to her later—assuming Blue didn't go postal and they both survived.

As Blue lowered herself into a booth, Emma wiggled her fingers beneath the table and feigned interest in her drink as a sound, eerily similar to that of an extended fart, rippled through the diner. The silence lasted only seconds before a round of laughter broke it and she sipped her hot chocolate nonchalantly, peering over the cup toward the fairy whose face had turned a beet red before she looked over to Regina.

She hid her surprise upon finding those caramel eyes fixed to her and a dark brow rose, the hint of a smile playing around the edges of plump lips. She lowered her cup and wiggled her fingers again, crumpled latex appearing in the hand she quickly shoved into her jacket pocket.

"Poor Blue," Snow commented quietly. "I wonder what's wrong with her."

Feeling the laughter bubbling in her chest, Emma brought her elbow up on to the table and covered her mouth. Henry met her gaze across the table, his own laughter shining bright in his eyes and she almost lost it, teeth clamping down on her thumb as a last resort that fortunately worked.

Red arrived with their food, a wide grin plastered across her face. Unlike her mother, Emma knew the werewolf was well-versed in the art of pranking and she winked as Red set her food down. Red softly gasped, poorly covering the sound with a cough and Emma rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure what she was thinking, certain that by tomorrow everyone would know it was her who so thoroughly embarrassed Blue.

"Are you alright?" David questioned kindly, placing a hand on her forearm as she finished serving them.

"Great, awesome—totally fine," Red chirped, flashing a too big smile before swiftly retreating from their table. "Enjoy your meals!"

"That was odd," Snow declared, frowning.

"Indeed," Regina agreed, amusement lacing her tone as Emma hesitantly turned back to her.

Regina was openly grinning now and Emma hastily looked down at her plate, deciding the food would be the safest option to distract her from the thought of wanting to kiss the mischievous look from her face. It wasn't a laugh, but it was pretty damn close and any small measure of happiness she could provide Regina was good enough for her.

That was her thought, at least, until the sound of sputtering reached her ears and she looked up, over to the table where Blue sat frowning at the drink she had in her hand. A foot connected with her knee and Emma blinked, brow furrowed as she looked to Henry who gestured to Regina with his head.

Emerald met caramel and it was difficult to mistake the challenge from within. Emma straightened in her seat, accepting the unspoken dare in those eyes with a grin. She placed her in chin in her palm and extended her index finger, swirling the digit around in the air before returning to her meal.

"Oh for the love of," Blue declared seconds later, her food now swimming in salt.

Emma could practically feel her entire body vibrate as a deep, silky chuckle caressed her ears but the feeling was short-lived as a horrified gasp sounded through the room and her head snapped up. Leroy stood in front of the booth with the two fairies, spouting his apologies to Blue who shot to her feet, her face a darker shade of red and looking drowned.

Emma's gaze darted to the half filled mug of beer in the dwarf's hand and this time she couldn't stop herself. She cracked up, laughing hard as Blue stormed from the diner in a huff, muttering curses under her breath while Leroy and Tink chased after her.

"Congratulations," she murmured, admitting defeat and mimicking the smile Regina gave as she inclined her head, both ignoring the matching looks of confusion from the blonde's parents.

* * *

 

Leaning against the car, Regina sighed. If Emma didn't hurry up and stop gossiping with Tinkerbelle, she was going to leave the imbecile behind and make her walk back to Mifflin. Lunch had been far more enjoyable than she thought possible, but that didn't mean her patience had grown any and all this standing around and waiting was cutting into the time she spent with their son.

Henry wound down the window next to where she stood and poked his head out, looking first to the two blondes and releasing a long suffering sigh. Regina patted the top of his head with a grin and he turned, arms reaching halfway down the car door as he slumped.

"Can't you conjure a strong wind or something?" He questioned. "Get her moving?"

Regina tilted her head with a chuckle, considering the thought. She couldn't mess with the weather—too many possibilities for screwing something up, but there were other ways to get Emma's attention that didn't involve potentially summoning a tornado through her town. She flicked her wrist and immediately glanced down at her nails, picking non-existent dirt from them as Emma let out a yelp.

When she looked up, Emma was glaring at her but she was also walking away from Tinkerbelle and Regina smirked, smug as Emma came to stand before her. "What was all that about?"

"My patience ran out," Regina replied casually with a nod in the direction she came from. "What was all _that_ about."

Emma beamed. "Apparently Blue had an epic meltdown at the convent and is threatening to leave Storybrooke."

"Oh no," Regina drawled, tone blank and Emma grinned.

"Don't sound too disappointed, Madam Mayor."

Regina sniffed, shrugging as she pushed from the car. "I believe this is the first time you being a pain in the ass has actually worked in my favour, Miss Swan."

"I can't take all the credit," Emma reminded, eyelashes fluttering ridiculously. "You did win, after all."

Tugging open the door to the car, Regina pressed a hand to her chest and feigned shock. "You mean you won't try and claim my favour by also claiming my victory?"

"Nah." Emma shook her head and rounded the car, pulling open her own door as she said, "You deserve all the bla—wait, what? What you do mean claim your favour?"

"If you think I'm not aware of what you were trying to do," Regina smirked, both sliding into their seats at the same. "Especially when your family has always been a favourite of Blue's—you're a bigger idiot than I thought, dear."


	7. Chapter 7

"Operation Frenemies," Regina read over her son's shoulder as he shot out of his chair.

"Mom!"

Henry scurried to gather the pages scattered across the table and she raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk forming. She'd been on to him and the blonde idiot for a while, and they still somehow thought their 'operation' was a secret.

"W-what are you doing home?"

Her brow rose higher, a full-blown grin replacing her smirk as he finally settled on a solution and sat on the table. "I thought I'd leave work early and surprise my son," she replied. "Did you at least do your homework before coming up with new ways Emma can embarrass herself?"

He blushed. "Uh..."

She shook her head. "You used to be such a responsible, pleasant child before she came along," she said with a sigh and gestured to the mess. "Get off the table and clean all this up. If your homework isn't completed by the time Emma comes home, you can explain to her why we aren't having pizza for dinner."

His mouth fell open in surprise and she smiled sweetly before she turned, returning to the kitchen where she'd emerged minutes earlier. She had intended to ask him what he wanted for toppings when she came in, as she was already in the process of preparing dinner, but seeing him huddled over the table, her curiosity had gotten the better of her and it slipped her mind.

Whether he'd done his homework or not, she'd already promised Emma pizza earlier in the week. Of course, Henry didn't need to know that. He would only question why she'd promised Emma in the first place, and that would only lead to complications because, between herself and her thoughts, she wasn't all that certain. Emma had mentioned a preference for homemade pizza one night and, as was sometimes the case, Regina had imbibed enough drink that she confessed to rewarding Henry with the occasional pizza of her own design.

That had led to Emma requesting she make one sometime, and it just so happened to be the night Regina decided to cave. They didn't drink together often, but when they did, those were the moments she enjoyed Emma's company and the last thing she wanted was those two ruining them with their hare-brained ideas all because she felt a smidgen of guilt about keeping something entirely insignificant from her son.

As she placed the finishing touches on both pizzas and slipped them into the oven, she heard the front door open and close. She glanced to the clock on the microwave and frowned. Emma had sent her a text at lunch informing her she'd likely be later than usual. Regina had wondered why at the time, considering Emma didn't exactly have a curfew, but she'd pushed the question aside in favour of finishing up the last of the paperwork leftover from the Lost Boys incident the previous week.

Exiting the kitchen, Regina paused in the doorway and watched as Emma removed her boots. She removed her jacket next and Regina bit her lip, eyes drawn first to the cleavage peeking out from the tight black tank she wore before swiftly traveling along those arms as Emma hung her jacket.

A number of thoughts ran through her mind, none of which she was in the mood to entertain any more than she was forced to, and she quickly dismissed them all, realizing Emma had taken note of her presence. Forcing her gaze up to the blonde's face, she rolled her eyes and scoffed at the grin Emma sported, and turned, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Emma followed, not that Regina expected any less as she pretended not to notice. Lately, outside of the nights they'd spend drinking wine together and talking, she'd often find herself in the silent company of the blonde. It was almost never uncomfortable, bar the times she lost control of where her mind wandered and ended up making a fool of herself as she hastily left the room with some weak attempt at an excuse.

She was never followed then, and Emma never questioned those moments; a fact Regina was forever grateful for. She was slowly coming to terms with her feelings for the blonde, but she still wasn't a hundred percent certain what those feelings were, let alone how she might explain them should Emma suddenly decide to interrogate her about why she was always running away for no, believable, reason.

"Where's the kid?" Emma asked, the sound of a stool pulled from beneath the counter accompanying the question.

With her back to the blonde, Regina took a few deep breathes to calm her racing mind and turned to the cupboard on her left, retrieving a glass for each of them. She seized the wine she'd brought up from the basement earlier when she arrived home and moved to the island where Emma sat, patiently waiting for her response.

"I sent him to his room to finish his homework," she replied, setting their glasses down. "For some reason, he thinks your operation to—what? Impress me? Is more important than his education."

Emma sighed. She'd tried to warn Henry against the operation after Snow told her Blue had returned to the Enchanted Forest. As much as she disliked the uptight fairy, and despite how amicable Regina had been ever since receiving the news, she still felt somewhat guilty of the part she played in running the woman out of town.

"I could talk to him if you want," she offered, accepting the glass of wine Regina handed to her. "I didn't think he'd be so…"

"Invested?" Regina supplied at her abrupt silence and Emma nodded. Regina smiled, taking a seat as she confessed, "I cannot claim that I am surprised. He seems to be under the impression that you and I could be friends, if only we stopped fighting long enough."

"We haven't fought in a while," Emma pointed out, a small grin peering out from behind her glass as she raised it to her mouth.

"Unfortunately," Regina drawled, her tone playful until she spoke again, expression serious. "Whatever happens between us, however, cannot be reliant on our son. He has enough on his plate without worrying about us, Miss Swan."

Emma swallowed and carefully lowered her glass, setting it on the counter as she licked her lips. Regina was right, of course. Henry was still just a kid and he never should have been involved. At least, she never should have accepted his involvement. Regardless of what she may have told him, he was as stubborn as his mothers combined and she wasn't naïve enough to believe simply telling him _no_ would dissuade him from interfering in what he considered wrong.

He wanted them to be friends, and while that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it wasn't his responsibility. She wanted more, of course, but friends was a first step and it was up to her and—more importantly—Regina to try and put their differences aside. Henry deserved better and though she couldn't speak for Regina, she thought the two of them deserved better as well.

"I'll discourage him," she promised. "You're right, I should never have dragged him into this…"

Regina interrupted with a laugh and Emma frowned, ready to question what was so funny before Regina shook her head and told her. "He has been hounding me for months about us," she explained with a chuckle. "I do not blame you for his… hobby, Miss Swan, I simply think he is wasting time better spent elsewhere."

Emma felt her stomach sink, the disappointment sharp as she stood. "I'll talk to him," she said before turning on her heel, oblivious to the look of confusion that followed her retreat.

* * *

 

"What did you do?"

Looking up from her book, Regina frowned at Henry stood in the doorway. The accusation in his tone was clear. It rankled her as much as the question confused her. "As I haven't the slightest clue to what you are referring, might you care to elaborate before blaming me?"

He had the decency to look apologetic, shoulders slumped as he stepped into the room. "Ma," he began, but before he could explain as she'd asked, Regina scoffed.

Whatever Emma's problem was, it wasn't her doing. She'd neither seen nor heard from the blonde since she left the kitchen almost an hour ago and while she was somewhat confused by Emma's sudden departure, she wasn't all that torn up about it. Just because they were temporarily living together, it didn't mean they had to be joined at the hip at all times.

"Again, I haven't the slightest clue," she said, rising from the couch. She shut her book and tucked it beneath her arm, speaking as she rounded the furniture and moved to leave the room. "Perhaps you should speak to Miss Swan rather than stand there accusing me of—who knows what fanciful idea you've cooked up in that imagination of yours."

Rounding the corner into the foyer, she pulled up short as she came face to face with the woman in question. Emma leaned against the wall, arms folded as she raised an eyebrow. "Bit harsh, don't you think?"

Regina rolled her eyes. She was tired of having to explain herself to every Tom, Dick and Harry that came along. "I receive enough blame for everything wrong in this town, the last thing I need is for my own son to join in and start accusing me of things he knows nothing about in my own home."

Whatever retort lay on the tip of her tongue, Regina didn't wait around to hear it and brushed passed. She had absolutely zero interest in anything Emma had to say, especially when it came to how she spoke to her son. If Henry wanted to blame her for something without first getting the facts, then he needed to deal with the consequences of his actions; harsh or otherwise.

Stepping into the kitchen, she paused before the counter and tilted her head. She could hear their voices but couldn't make anything out, muffled as they were between the rooms separating them. It was barely a minute before everything went quiet and she shook off the urge to go and see what they were doing as she moved to the stove.

When she entered the dining room, dinner in hand, she froze as their eyes fell on her. Henry was already seated while Emma finished setting the table, plates and cutlery placed exactly how she herself did it each night. Her brow furrowed as she found it difficult not to feel at least slightly impressed by Emma's attention to detail.

"What are you doing?"

"Apologising," Henry replied. She glanced between them, noting their sheepish expressions almost matched, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Me too," Emma added with a crooked smile. "We didn't mean to gang up on you like that."

Regina eyed them both warily. If this was another one of their ideas to get her to like Emma more, she was going to ground him and then set fire to Miss Swan. She was starting to like the blonde just fine, and it had nothing at all to do with their foolish antics.

"I suppose I can forgive you both this once," she conceded as she placed the two pizza dishes between them.

One was purely meat based; salami, pepperoni, ham and bacon with copious cheese. She had no idea how Henry could eat it, but the other was his favourite and a combination of meat and vegetables; chicken with avocado, onions, salsa, tomatoes and sour cream. It looked disgusting, but she knew from experience that he would eat the entire thing given the chance and hoped Emma was more amendable to trying it than she was.

As she took her seat and reached for a piece of the former, she paused halfway and levelled Emma with an eyebrow when she noticed the woman staring at her. "I haven't even started eating, Miss Swan, so I _know_ there isn't anything on my face," she said, plucking a slice from the dish and transferring it to her plate.

"No," she agreed with a chuckle. "It's not that, I just… never thought I'd see you eat pizza let alone one as unhealthy as _that_."

"Pizza is pizza, Miss Swan," Regina drawled, tearing off the crust and popping it into her mouth. "It's all unhealthy."

"So…" Emma eyed the other pizza, face contorting in a grimace. "What's up with that one, then?"

Regina smirked, glancing over to their son who was scowling at his other mother. "That one is for Henry," she says. "And if you share with him, I might be able to find it in my heart to save you a slice or two of my own."

Emma's mouth fell open and her smirk widened as a whine crawled up the blonde's throat. "But it looks…"

"Revolting," Regina agreed, nose wrinkling in disgust. She'd tried it once. Never again; it tasted a far sight worse than it looked. "I am, however, confident that your taste buds aren't anywhere near as refined as my own and you may, in fact, enjoy it."

"You're both babies," Henry chimed in, retrieving two slices for himself. He piled them on top of one another and took a large bite before adding around the mouthful, "I'm a boy; the grosser, the better."

Emma rolled her eyes and grabbed a slice while Regina watched, bemused as she seemed to study it as though it were about to come alive in her hand. She was only entertained further when Emma eventually sighed and closed her eyes before taking a bite, a moan falling unbidden from her lips.

Regina shook her head. She wasn't joking when she said she thought Emma would like it. It was food, and if she knew anything about Emma Swan, it was that there was almost nothing she _wouldn't_ eat. She was fairly certain Emma was basically every mother's dream daughter in that department. Henry had gone through a vegetarian phase once, for about a month; it was a nightmare. He also hated brussel sprouts, which she found weird considering he loved cabbage and they were practically the same damn thing.

* * *

 

Emma fell into what she'd begun to think of as _her_ chair with a groan. She should have listened to Regina and stopped after her fourth slice but it was _so_ good and her eyes had always been bigger than her stomach, at least according to her mother—and anyone else unfortunate enough to be in the same room with her while she was eating.

She knew she was a shameless glutton and that she would do it all over again, given the chance. Regina was every man's dream in the kitchen. Hell, Emma corrected the thought, Regina was every man—and woman's—dream _outside_ of the kitchen. It was too bad Regina wasn't interested in taking their relationship any further than whatever stage they were at. She thought they might have had fun exploring it, but Emma had to respect her wishes, right?

Her chest constricted at the thought and she heaved a sigh. In her mind, she'd accepted Regina's declaration that Henry was only wasting his time trying to bring them closer together, but the rest of her was still in the process of rebelling. Sometimes it felt as though her heart and body had a mind separate from the one inside her head.

Resting her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the disappointment she'd been feeling since she'd left the kitchen. It wasn't as if where they were at now was anything terrible. She _was_ living with Regina, even if only short-term. Their relationship had to at least be somewhere in the vicinity of friends, right? And Regina _did_ cook pizza after she'd made it explicitly clear she only did it for special occasions, and only ever for Henry.

Regina might not want to admit it, but there was _something_ there and whatever it was, was a lot stronger than anything Emma may have imagined in the past while they were transcending realms and defeating bad guys. She groaned again. Not being able to put a name to their connection was one of _the_ most frustrating things on the planet.

"You sound like a dying walrus."

Her eyes snapped open at the comment before her mind had actually registered the words, and she chuckled perhaps a few seconds too late. "Speaking from experience, are you?"

Regina eyed her up and down, searching for something before she shook her head. "Something happened," she stated, walking over to the couch where she took a seat.

Emma straightened, alert. "What? What happened?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "In the kitchen when you came home this afternoon," she continued, holding up a hand when Emma tried to interrupt. "I hate that Henry insists on being in the middle of… this, but he was right. I said something that affected you and it has been bothering me ever since, so I would appreciate it if you could tell me what I did wrong."

Emma slumped, panic over there being something bad going on replaced by a panic of another kind entirely. She could lie, she supposed, but that did have a tendency to come back and bite her on the ass more often than not and there was that whole promise she'd made to herself _not_ to do that, if she could help it.

"You don't have to tell me," Regina provided her an out, and then ripped it out from under her with her next words. "But if you don't, then I'm going to assume it was something unimportant and I'm afraid feeling guilt over something insignificant will only anger me. Anything I said was not intended to hurt you, Miss Swan, I would like to understand and, perhaps, explain my words before you assume the worst."

Emma sighed. Lying was definitely out of the equation now. "You…" She bit her lip and averted her gaze, unable to look at the sincere expression of interest Regina wore. "You said Henry was wasting his time."

Regina remained silent and Emma forced her attention back to her, only to see she was being stared at, the expression now blank. She huffed, feeling stupid but knowing she needed to continue if she wanted Regina to understand. "You made it sound like you thought I wasn't worth it, that we would never be anything more than… this, whatever this is."

Regina closed her eyes and visibly took a deep breath. "You're an idiot," she accused as her eyes snapped open. "I play nice with your insipid parents every Sunday afternoon. I accompanied your mother _shopping_ , a venture I sorely detest even on a good day. I nursed you back to health, and then allowed you to remain in my home for what essentially boils down to absolutely no reason at all. If you think you aren't worth it to me, after all of that, then you are an idiot and I am at a loss."

Wide eyed and slack jawed, Emma was silently berating herself as she watched Regina stand and move towards her. She shrank back as Regina leaned over her, hands curled around the arms of the chair as she brought their faces within an inch of each other and said, "I may, on occasion, loathe your very existence and you may be many things, but never have I ever judged you _worthless_ , Emma Swan."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no music in the last chapter, and I wanted this song in this fic so... appropriate moment, deal.

Run away and lay with me;

Lost souls and revelry.

Running wild, and running free.

Two kids; you and me.

 

Smiling, Regina sucked in her lower lip as she propped herself up against the doorframe. Emma danced as she worked on what would be one of four bedrooms, hips swaying to the music spilling in through the window from the front lawn. Her voice filled the room, soft but not too soft, and perfectly in tune. She was covered in paint and sweat, and Regina couldn't stop staring as her mind wandered back to three nights ago when she thought Emma might kiss her.

Part of her had hoped, even if Emma had only done it to shock her and put some distance between them. She'd had half a mind to do it herself when she realized Emma wasn't going to, and then the thought fully registered and she'd had a minor meltdown, swiftly creating the distance herself as she'd quickly left the room. She was no longer confused about her feelings toward Emma thanks to that night, but fear had soon replaced the relief of finally having a name for the emotions that assaulted her almost every waking second.

With a sigh, Regina shook her head and forced her mind back to the present. She was tired of reliving the moment, it wasn't as though she could go back and change the way she'd reacted to the realization. Emma didn't seem bothered by it anymore than she was bothered by the rest of her behavior, though she was spending more time out of the house. She claimed it was because being sick had put her behind schedule and she still had too much work to do on her little project but after three days, Regina had started to wonder if perhaps there was more to it, which was why she'd arrived that afternoon; to confront her.

Now that she understood her feelings, she needed to work through them, and she couldn't very well do that without Emma present. Of course, it wouldn't be Emma if she hadn't distracted her, unintentional as said distraction may have been.

Watching her, seeing her acting so carefree as she sang and danced was… breathtaking; temptation wrapped in a skin-tight tank with pale yellow paint splattered across the front. Regina felt light-headed and positively _giddy_ with the possibilities that awaited them.

Would Emma turn and catch her staring? Perhaps be surprised, maybe stumble back a little with a gasp? Would she see the warm tingle of desire that ebbed within Regina's stomach, in the darkness of her eyes? Would she stutter out some form of incomprehensible excuse and rush from the room, or would she stand her ground and dare Regina to do something about the unwelcome, but undeniable and addictive attraction between them?

Long live the pioneers,

Rebels and mutineers.

Go forth, and have no fear.

Come close, and lend an ear.

 

"Touched as I am that you came all this way to ogle me," Emma's voice continued beyond the lyrics. "It is a little unnerving, Regina."

Surprised to have been noticed but unwilling to show it, Regina allowed her gaze to travel slowly up Emma's form as she turned, paying close attention to her legs before their eyes met, and she smirked. "I was merely wondering where you found the time to raid Ruby's closet for those shorts," she replied, proud when all that laced her voice was a barely audible husk rather than the moronic breathlessness she feared.

"Oh?" Emma grinned and lowered her paintbrush as she stepped forward. "So you weren't say… wondering what might be beneath them then?"

All hail the underdogs.

All hail the new kings.

 All hail the outlaws,

Spielberg's and Kubrick's.

 

Regina swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. "Don't be ridiculous," she said, and then followed it up with a silent curse; there was the breathlessness. "We're both women, I hardly need to _wonder_ , Miss Swan."

It's our time to make a move.

 

The grin widened as Emma continued forward and Regina tried to move, to push from the doorframe and take a step—or ten—back but she was frozen in place, transfixed by the confidence Emma conveyed with every step. "Have I ever told you how sexy it is when you call me that?"

It's our time to make amends.

 

They were close, too close. Regina could barely hear herself think as the blood rushed in her ears and her cheeks flushed. Emma was _flirting_ with her, and goddamn it, it was _working_.

It's our time to break the rules.

 

"Let's begin," Emma mouthed the next words to the song and Regina surged forward, crushing their lips together.

Her hands found the tie holding Emma's messy ponytail together and she tugged it free, smoothing her fingers through golden curls as arms encircled her waist and pulled their bodies together. She swallowed a moan as a tongue swiped her lower lip and parted her lips, welcoming the deepening of the kiss.

Emma hummed and the arms tightened their hold, seemingly trying to bring her closer. It was as she heard the dull thunk of something hitting the floor and the warm touch of fingers on the naked flesh of her hip beneath her blouse that she realized what they were doing, and Regina jerked back, breathing hard as all manner of thoughts crossed her mind. She allowed Emma to continue holding her, moving no further than the breaking of the kiss, and simply stared.

She wouldn't run. She _couldn't_ run. It had felt good, _right_. She'd kissed enough people in her lifetime to know when it was wrong. Kissing Emma Swan was definitely not, and that was what surprised her. It wasn't all that long ago she'd compared the woman to her greatest enemy, and now there she was _kissing_ her and being _happy_ about it.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Their eyes met and Regina sighed, shaking her head. "Longer than I, I wager," she replied, placing her hand on a bicep in a silent plea.

Emma stepped back, arms dropping to her sides. "By at least three years," she confessed, flashing a crooked smile as Regina stared at her in shock. "Four, if you count that year in New York that I don't really remember anymore."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Well I did have two beers before you arrived," Emma answered honestly, gesturing behind her. "But I'm not drunk, if that's what you're asking."

Regina glanced passed her and spotted the two empty bottles on the window sill. She nodded, piecing together her own reasoning as to how Emma had gone from subtly avoiding her, to—well, _not_ resisting her advances. "I need some air."

She turned to leave and it wasn't until she reached the top of the stairs leading to the first floor that Emma's question followed from down the hall. "Do you want me to come?"

With a smile, she descended the stairs and called back her reply, "Give me a few minutes."

* * *

 

Emma tried not to be impatient. It was possibly the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her life; to _not_ chase after Regina. The only thing that kept her in place was reminding herself Regina wasn't her. Regina didn't run from her problems. Spit fire and scowl at them until they cowered into a corner, sobbing hysterically; yes, but run? No.

Regina had asked for a few minutes to herself, and short of peering out the window every couple of seconds to ease what little doubt she had, Emma was damn well going to give them to her. Instead of flying out of the room and down the stairs like a lunatic, as her mind was goading her to, she set about cleaning up the mess she'd made of the room.

As proud as she was of the headway she'd made on the house, it was the farthest thing from her thoughts and she grinned as she moved about the room. Kissing Regina was better than anything she imagined. Her lips were so soft, and the breathy little sound she made when Emma had pulled her closer? _Heaven_ didn't even come close to touching the sensation of that sound as it had lovingly stroked her ego.

She only hoped that when she finally walked down those stairs and out the door to where Regina sat on her porch that she wasn't going to be disappointed. Regina may not run from her problems, but Emma knew her well enough to know that the idea of starting a relationship, especially with the one who ruined her last, was more than likely urging Regina to put distance between them.

Would Regina force her to move out of her house before time? Would she tell her the kiss was a mistake that could never happen again? Would she watch, helpless and heartbroken, as Regina walked away from her?

Emma groaned and shook the thoughts from her head. Regina had acknowledged whatever this thing between them was and, while in the end it would be her choice, Emma wasn't going to go down without a fight. She had waited too long for their chance, through villains and boyfriends and meddling parents who _finally_ let go of their past long enough to see Regina as she always had.

Three years was too long to simply give up after a single kiss, no matter how spine tingling said kiss had been.

With a glance about the room to see if she'd forgotten anything, Emma peered once more out the window and decided she'd waited long enough. She jogged from the room and took the stairs two at a time, pausing at her front door to offer up a prayer she wasn't about to have her heart broken before she threw it open.

Beautiful, dark eyes greeted her and she blinked, gaze dropping to crimson lips as a tongue peeked out from behind them to wet the lower one. "You sure took your sweet time."

Her breath hitched at the teasing tone and her eyes shot up, throat bobbing with a swallow as she retreated back into the house, Regina mirroring her every step. "Good things come to those who wait," she replied, voice rough with desire.

Regina laughed; a full, throaty sound that instantly caused moist heat to pool between Emma's thighs. "Good things come to those who _work_ hard, Miss Swan," she purred. "A lesson, which you are about to learn oh… so… _thoroughly_."

"Uh," Emma stuttered, doing her best to ignore her body screaming at her to surrender to the moment before she ruined it. "If you're about to give me the best sex of my life, and then tell me that's all I'm getting, I'll have to do the most painful thing I have ever done, and pass."

She winced as her back hit the bannister to the stairs and Regina smirked, eyes practically burning through her clothes before their bodies were suddenly together. Regina traced her jaw with the tip of a finger, their mouths a mere inch or two apart. "While I am certain it _will_ be the best sex of your life, my only intention is to have your face between my legs when I'm done."

Emma whimpered.

"In fact," Regina continued, smirk widening as she drew a line from jaw to chest, finger dipping beneath Emma's tank. "The thought of you spread across my bed, naked and waiting, whenever I want, is far more appealing than I ever would have thought."

"It's the paint fumes, isn't it?" Emma nodded to herself, looking anywhere but Regina as she tried to ignore the finger sliding through her cleavage. "I inhaled too much and now I'm hallucinating… or passed out and dreaming. Maybe I had more than two beers after all?"

She caught Regina's eye roll from the corner of her eye and turned her head. "What? It's possible. Maybe _you're_ dreaming which, god I hope not, but—"

Regina cut her off with a kiss and she moaned, arms finding their way around hips, as though that was where they'd always belonged. Emma closed her eyes and sank into the warmth of Regina's mouth, tasting chocolate and—cider? "I don't have any cider," she murmured against lips.

"I may have summoned a glass for a little extra… courage," Regina admitted with a blush.

"Is that what you call what that was?" Emma grinned, her tone teasing. "Here I thought the Evil Queen had come out to play."

Regina smirked. "You'll have to make do with me, I'm afraid, the Evil Queen has certain… tastes and from what I've seen so far, your body is far too precious for her."

Emma hummed. She could imagine exactly what the Evil Queen's _tastes_ involved and was, admittedly, intrigued but not enough to distract them from their present situation. "So sex wise," she said, forcing them back on track. "Are we talking friends with benefits, secret affair…"

Another eye roll down, Regina shook her head. "In order for either of those to be possible, we'd have to be entirely different people. It will never simply be _just_ sex for us, Miss Swan."

"You know that means you'll have to start calling me Emma, and not just when I deserve it."

"I thought you said it was sexy when I call you that?"

"Well yeah, but outside of the bedroom, it's just annoying. You make me sound like an old school ma'am, or some shit."

"Eloquent as always, dear."

Emma frowned, only now realising Regina was out of her arms and walking away from her. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Regina replied without so much as a backward glance as she crossed through the open front door. "Someone has to cook dinner for your son."

" _My_ son," Emma repeated, confused. She squinted, and then shook her head. That just sounded weird. Seeing Regina was halfway down the sidewalk, she rushed out after her. "Wait, I thought we were going to… you know?"

Regina scoffed, turning as she reached her car. "You don't even have any furniture. Did you think we'd rut around on the floor like some sort of animals? Please, I'm a Queen and a bit more refined."

As she slipped in to the driver's seat, Emma stared after her, wanting to voice a protest but with absolutely no idea what to say to stop what was happening from happening.

"Dinner will be in an hour, _Emma_ ," Regina purred, still smirking as she started the car. "Try to be home before then and maybe we'll pick this conversation back up in time for bed."

* * *

Backwards.

That was Regina's first thought when she walked into her study. Dinner was over, Henry was in bed and there Emma sat, nervously fidgeting with the seam of her jeans, waiting for the inevitable conversation that would decide the fate of the two of them. Regina had briefly contemplated simply dragging the blonde upstairs and having her way with her, but then that would make Emma no different than most of the others and if there was one thing Regina knew for certain, it was that Emma was unlike any who came before.

Emma was different—special, if one must put a name to it. Emma believed in her. Emma trusted her and she had a way of worming her way into one's life, setting down roots and becoming this constant _thing_ that even when she wasn't around, she was around; in quiet musings, on the lips of others, in the air.

Emma was also backwards, or rather, what they were considering doing was backwards. A child before sex, before a relationship of any kind. Regina supposed they could have been friends at some point, perhaps in the time between Neverland and Zelena, but she didn't think they'd ever quite made it to the right stage.

Their son was a very clever boy; Operation Frenemies, an apt label for what they were to one another, if ever there was one.

Ah, but she _liked_ Emma now and if she'd had room for doubt, her approach earlier that evening would have quashed it like a bug. Emma had been confused, hesitant to accept what was implied, but receptive all the same. Regina was attracted to her and, though a surprising revelation still, knowing Emma had wanted her for as long as she had only made her more appealing.

Regina often wondered if Emma was ever holding anything back during their many arguments in the past, and seeing the familiar glint that often entered emerald eyes that evening had sent tingles all down her spine. Emma wanted her and, more importantly, had made it crystal clear she wasn't solely interested in her for her body like so many others.

"Drink?" She offered, crossing the room to where Emma sat, eyes firmly fixed to her hands as she shook her head in response. "Your nerves do you no credit, dear; I much prefer the confident, dare I say, _cocky_ side of you."

A soft laugh met her words before Emma straightened, lifting her head until Regina was staring down into those bright, magnetic eyes. Gods, how had she been oblivious for so long? When she sometimes caught Emma watching her from across a room, her temperature would spike no matter the day she'd had, or the mood she was in.

"Much better," she husked, rolling her eyes with a chuckle when Emma winked. Cocky was definitely how she liked her Sheriff. "Last chance, Princess," she said. "Drink?"

Again, Emma shook her head but this time she leaned back and laid her arms across the back of the couch, not a single trace of the nerves left behind. "I'm good."

"Very well." Regina tapped her chin and considered her options a moment. There were two ways she saw their conversation going and either way, she'd call a win. Really, there was only one thing she wanted to know. "Tell me, Miss Swan, what is it that you want from me?"

Shoulders rising in a shrug, Emma replied simply, "Whatever you're willing to give me."

Regina cocked an eyebrow, disbelieving. "If that were true, then why did you deny me earlier? What if all I'm willing to give is my body?"

Emma smiled. "I resisted you earlier because you didn't know my intentions and… Well, I speak from experience when I say that getting into a relationship—any relationship, and not being on the same page as your partner can cause all sorts of problems I'm sure neither of us want to get into."

Regina nodded her agreement, resisting a scowl at the sudden intrusion of the pirate, who she was certain was the one Emma referred. They were on the same page so far. "And what _are_ your intentions, Sheriff?"

The smile morphed into a mischievous grin and Regina's knees weakened when Emma drawled, "Why, Madam Mayor, I intend to convince you to fall in love with me, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> [Renegades](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&sqi=2&ved=0ahUKEwiDkN7nl8fKAhVJJpQKHXg-DI4QyCkIHDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D6tu4wWSbnIs&usg=AFQjCNHwTeVpdMMYQikHkfBhQEJ6dR0oYA&sig2=sscrc-pjaBwGtfmranYujg&bvm=bv.112766941,d.dGo)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try not to blink, or you'll miss the smidgen of angst.

Head falling back against the couch, Emma chuckled to herself. Regina hadn't even attempted an excuse before she freaked out again and flew from the room. She wanted to be mad that she'd been wrong, that Regina _had_ run from her this time, but she couldn't bring herself to feel that way when another part of her just thought it was sad.

They were two grown women, and rather than sit down and talk about their feelings for one another like mature, fully functioning adults, they behaved like children. She was just as guilty as Regina, she knew. Over time, when what she felt became too much, she learned to push the feelings aside and avoided (as best she could) what triggered them to begin with.

She was wrong to assume that it would be easier for them now. Now that they'd kissed, now that they'd mutually admitted to this thing between them that wouldn't go away no matter how hard they tried to ignore it. She'd wanted to give Regina a choice, to not force them together despite how often she found herself wanting to march over and simply kiss the woman senseless. How many fights, she wondered, could have been avoided if only they'd both opened their eyes to the possibility of _them_ , instead of chasing after the wrong things time and time again?

Then again, what did it matter now? She mused as she stood and moved to the mantel to pour the drink she'd denied herself earlier. She had shown her hand too soon and now Regina would be on the defensive.

In fact, Emma decided then and there, she wouldn't be at all surprised if she was to wake up in the morning to her bags packed and waiting for her, Regina and Henry nowhere to be found. Maybe Regina would leave their son behind, pretend an early meeting, to soften the blow of her rejection with his little chipmunk face. They would have breakfast together with the expectation that she would be gone when he returned from school, lingering in the air above them and just genuinely making them wholly uncomfortable.

Emma shook her head and downed the cider in a single breath. If she had to wait much longer for Regina to pull her head out of her ass, she would seriously start to consider one of her earlier thoughts when she first realized she was in love with Regina, and make a deal with Gold; curse herself to another land without her own memories.

* * *

 

Coming downstairs to the smell of pancakes and coffee, Regina frowned. It was too early for Henry to be up, and she knew Emma couldn't cook to save her life.

At least, that was what she thought before she entered the kitchen.

Emma stood at the sink, coffee in hand as she stared out of the window into the backyard. She was humming a familiar tune and Regina watched as she occasionally turned her head to the check the skillet on the stove. Regina cleared her throat and managed to resist a smile when Emma jumped, spinning on her heel with wide eyes.

"You're up early," Regina commented as she rounded the counter, accepting the cup Emma handed to her and reaching for the pot of coffee.

"Couldn't sleep."

Regina cast her a side-long glance as she poured. Kept up all night by Emma's implied confession swirling around in her head, she could relate. It was only out of fear that Emma might have been suffering the same difficulty that she hadn't come downstairs sooner, afraid she would run into the blonde before she'd had time to sort through her thoughts.

Not that she was about to admit such a thing, stubborn as she was. "Regretting something?" she queried, head jerking to the side in surprise when Emma snorted.

"Only that I listened to you," Emma replied, mimicking Regina's words back to her as she turned her attention to the stove. "I much prefer the confident, dare I say,  _cocky_ side of you," she mockingly drawled and snorted again. "Silly me for being nervous and thinking you'd freak out when I told you the truth… oh wait."

"Excuse me for not expecting a declaration of love so soon into our relationship," she snapped back in irritation.

Had she entered the twilight zone? Emma never confronted her. Emma was supposed to understand, to let her come to terms with these things on her own—give her _time_ to adjust and decide on a plan of action. It had been a solid, well-respected tradition since Emma became a guest in her home. Was Emma simply destined to ruin everything?

"Relationship?" Emma laughed, the sound just as mocking as her words. "What relationship, Regina? We kissed before I gave you what you wanted, and then you ran away from me. That isn't a relationship, that's… that's fucked up, is what that is."

"Well what did you expect?" Regina shouted, suddenly angry she had to defend her actions. "That I would tell you it was too late? That you'd be wasting your time because I was already in love with you?"

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened as Emma slowly turned, mouth open in shock. That was _exactly_ why she needed time. She could have avoided this for another day at least, but no, Emma had to be her usual annoying self. She'd spent all night remembering their time together, all the little moments that when pieced together could only mean one thing; the smiles, the laughter, the tears she had shed that night she thought Emma had betrayed her.

This wasn't at all how she planned to tell her.

They stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime and Regina resisted her desire to flee for once. She had been a fool; a fool in denial who was in love with a woman she'd thought of as nothing more than an enemy, and then only as the mother of her son while she pursued a man because of something as asinine as a tattoo and a time long ago—a time when she was broken and alone, looking for hope in the most hopeless of places.

"You love me?" Emma whispered, breaking the spell between them as she took a step forward. Regina swallowed back the instant denial that came to her lips and averted her gaze to stare down at the cup in her hands.

Emma had had enough heartbreak in her life. They both had, and as much as she wanted to protect herself against even the possibility of it happening again, Regina wanted to be happy more than anything. No matter how slim she thought the chance might be, she'd come to the startling realization as she lay awake in bed; Emma had a better chance than most of giving her what she wanted.

In a roundabout way, Emma had admitted her own feelings and shouldn't that be enough? Regina nodded to herself, answering both questions at once as she dared to look up and into that stupid, beautiful, hope filled face. "I don't know how or when," she murmured.

Last night, she'd spent so much time going back on everything that happened between them, all the way back to the beginning when it was just some stranger standing in front of her with an idiotic smile and a hideous leather jacket. There were too many instances where she'd felt her heart skip a beat, too many moments she'd become breathless as they'd invaded one another's space.

Perhaps it was beneath her apple tree when she felt that crippling lust for the infuriating blonde, or maybe the mine where she poured her heart out to her son—when she begged Emma to protect him, to take him across the town line and leave her to die as the woman she'd always envisioned herself to be. It could have been any one of the times Emma had saved her, or perhaps it was during a quiet moment during a lunch she pretended not to love.

Whenever it happened, whatever the reason, she had denied it for too long. "But I do," she confessed, closing her eyes to the bright, bright smile Emma wore before she surged forward and kissed her.

Regina winced as she felt the coffee soak into her shirt from the cup still between them, and laughed as Emma quickly pulled back to look down in horror. "Oh shit, I'm—"

Shaking her head, Regina placed the cup on the bench and fisted a hand in her shirt. She tugged Emma back to her and reconnected their lips, fingers unfurling and dancing their way up and over a shoulder where they curled around her neck. She didn't care. The coffee was warm and their shirts could easily be fixed.

A weight she hadn't known she was carrying lifted from her shoulders, leaving her feeling lighter as she sank into the kiss with a sigh of contentment.

How she had contemplated denying herself this was unfathomable. Regina parted her lips at the thought, sucking Emma's tongue into her mouth. She delighted in the rumble of a chest as Emma moaned, the vibration travelling through the kiss and all the way down to settle between her thighs.

"Hey Mom, what's b… urning?" Regina and Emma sprung apart and Henry rolled his eyes, ignoring their shared expression of surprise as he moved to where the pancakes had burned to a crisp and turned off the stove.

"Henry…" Regina began, only to pause when he waved his hand as though he thought she might say something to scar him for the rest of his life.

"Aside from grandpa owing me ten bucks and an _I told you so_ for both of you, I do not need to know," he interrupted his brunette mother. "I do need breakfast before school though so… Granny's?"

Regina opened and closed her mouth once or twice, speechless, before she looked to Emma for help. Obviously and not at all cleverly attempting to stifle a laugh, Emma coughed into her hand and said, "Sure thing, kid. Meet you in the car?"

Henry nodded and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter before leaving the room. Regina scowled the second he was out of sight and pulled away from the hand still sat on her hip. "What was that?"

"Um." Emma frowned. "Me agreeing to buy food for our kid because we were too busy making out to notice breakfast was ruined?"

"You didn't even try to pretend we weren't doing what he thought we were doing," Regina growled as she stormed over to the stove, picking up the skillet and throwing the pancakes in to the trash beneath the sink.

Emma took it from her hand when she straightened and placed it beneath the tap that she then turned on as she spoke. "Firstly, we were doing exactly what he thought we were doing," she replied. "And secondly, did you not hear a word he said? Seriously, you're going to be mad at me because our son was completely fine with the two of us kissing in front of him?"

"Yes!"

"Why?" Emma questioned as she turned off the tap and faced her, exasperation in her voice. "What the hell is the point, Regina? We both wanted to do it and Henry doesn't care. Be _happy_ for once in your life, you goddamn stubborn woman."

Regina glared at her and Emma refused to back down.

After what could have been an eternity for all they knew, Regina deflated and slumped against the bench, a sigh falling from her lips. "I don't know," she muttered with a shake of her head. She _should_ be happy. She _was_ happy and then— "Reality sucks."

Emma laughed and stepped in front of her, hands cupping her cheeks. "News flash, Regina; this is reality," she said. "You and me. Henry not giving a shit what his mothers do when he's not around…"

"Your parents disowning you for being in love with the Evil Queen," Regina interjected dryly and swatted her hands away as she rose from her slouched position and stood tall once more. "The town thinking I put some sort of spell on their beloved Savior, and let's not forget the one handed wonder who'll probably think it's because of said spell that you tossed him to the side as he comes crawling back."

"Swan," she continued in her best impression of the pirate. "I swear on my sleazy, unwashed honour that I will save you from this evil witch, and then we can be together again."

"Fine. You're right," Emma threw her hands up and turned to leave, voice rising as she stomped out of the kitchen. "Why bother looking on the bright side when you can live in the past and be miserable for all eternity."

"Well now you're just being dramatic," Regina called after her, looking about the kitchen for her keys before plucking them from on top of the fridge and following after the blonde.

Noticing Emma reaching for her red leather jacket as she entered the foyer, Regina uttered an emphatic, "No," and snapped her fingers, swapping it with the brown one as she passed through the front door with a smirk and an incomprehensible mutter at her back.

* * *

 

Emma pouted the whole car ride, a fact Regina seemed to take perverse joy in considering the smirk that remained on her stupidly perfect face. She ignored the looks they received as she entered the diner, remembering that it had to have been some time since people last saw her and Regina together without the rest of the charming clan.

Dropping in to the nearest empty booth, Emma was seated for all of two point three seconds before—"Move."

She sighed and scooted across to the window, the space she tried to keep between them acknowledged by Regina with a soft chuckle before she disregarded it completely and pressed against her side. "She-devil," Emma said under her breath.

"Baby," Regina responded in kind just as Red bounded over to their table. She then proceeded to order for all three of them before she noted Emma's narrowed gaze. "What? Was I wrong to assume you wanted the same thing you order every morning you come here?"

Emma shook her head silently as she watched Red leave, feeling the smile that grew at the thought of Regina memorizing her order. It _was_ the same thing she ordered every morning, yet she rarely had breakfast at Granny's—Regina even less so.

"You like me," she whispered, nudging Regina with a grin.

Regina rolled her eyes and nudged back. "Shut up, Miss Swan," she murmured, a flush creeping across both of their cheeks as their minds travelled back to the day before.

Henry groaned, forcing their attention to him as he questioned, "Am I going to be subjected to this until I go to college?"

"You're not going to college," Regina said, looking at him as though he'd grown a second head.

Emma smirked and added, "You are so living here forever."

Regina nodded approvingly, pressing more firmly into Emma who not so stealthily slid an arm around her. "Grounded for life, really."

"Moms," Henry tried to stop them, shrinking deeper into his seat when his plea fell on deaf ears.

"He thinks he's leaving us, Regina."

"I blame your mother," she replied, sighing mournfully. "That woman hands out hope as if it's candy and every day is Halloween."

"And my father," Emma helpfully spread the blame around. "He probably filled his head with talk of girls and how much we like our men to be successful and independent."

"Nonsense," Regina scoffed, offering Red a smile when she returned to their table with their breakfast. She thanked the waitress and then turned to their son, expression dead serious as she informed him, "We prefer them clingy and fully reliant on their mothers."

Henry shook his head and picked up his fork, spearing a piece of French toast as he declared, "You're both weird," before shoving the food into his mouth.

"I blame you for his atrocious table manners," Regina commented and sipped her coffee, humming.

Emma shrugged. Henry definitely had her appetite and lack of regard for proper etiquette. "That's okay," she said, retrieving the syrup and drowning her pancakes. "I blame you for his gargantuan head."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of you are fond of angst, but if you're familiar with my work, you'll know that I'm not. I just can't do it. I want them to be happy, damn it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here. Have some fluffy bullshit.

"David," Regina greeted him as she entered the station, eyes cutting across the room to where Emma sat when the two of them shared a shift, only to find the desk empty. She frowned. "Where the hell is your daughter?"

Emma was _supposed_ to be at her office over an hour ago with the last week's worth of paperwork, but she hadn't showed. In fact, Regina hadn't seen her since earlier that morning when Emma rushed out the door, late for work because she'd lost track of time watching cartoons with their son.

"Either filling out paperwork, or she's fallen asleep at her desk again."

Voice muffled, her head whipped back around to stare at him and her frown deepened. She immediately had questions. Such as; why were his arms over his head and— "Why would Emma be sleeping at her desk? And what do you mean _again_? If I'd wanted a narcoleptic Sheriff, I'd have given the job to one of your wife's boyfriends."

Lifting his head with a groan, David rubbed the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward off whatever it was that ailed him. Regina considered asking, and then pondered a moment if she actually cared for the answer before deciding she didn't. She was far more interested in Emma, as was the case more often than not these days.

David sighed. "In order of importance; I'd assume it was because she's tired, but you'd have to ask her. The town is the one who appointed her Sheriff, not you. And the dwarves are not Snow's _boyfriends_."

"As amused as I am by your oddly structured priorities—specifically the part where you place your wife's carnal interests last—perhaps you can still be somewhat useful and enlighten me as to how long Emma has apparently been taking naps during her shift?"

"A couple of days?" He guessed, ignoring the rest. "I don't know, Regina. She lives with you, why don't you ask her when she gets home."

She huffed. "If you think I'm going to allow her to continue shirking her responsibilities long enough for her to arrive home—"

"Leave him alone, Regina, he already has a headache."

Sharply turning at the interruption of that voice with the faint but noticeable husk, Regina froze as she took in the sight of her Sheriff. Emma's hair had that newly awakened tousle as she ran her fingers through it, somehow managing to make it worse and more appealing at the same time. Regina had seen the sight a dozen times before, but this was different. This wasn't simply the annoying woman she allowed to stay with her because of a son too young to understand the complications involved in the possibility of his mothers eventually being friends, or even speaking to each other without one of them wanting to hit the other.

This was Emma. An Emma who loved her, an Emma who openly gazed at her with a look of affection that, even while still half asleep, screamed Emma's feelings for her as though she were holding a megaphone and shouting them from a rooftop for all the world to hear.

"Go home, Dad."

Drawn from her trance as Emma spoke, Regina attempted to compose herself and shake the sudden feeling of warmth that suffused her chest. Without the thick wall of ignorance shrouding her thoughts, it was becoming more and more difficult to deny the effect Emma Swan had on her sanity. The power Emma had over her without any effort at all, without even being _aware_ of it was simply ridiculous.

"Are you sure?" David was asking, already out of his seat with his jacket halfway on. Regina had to bite her lip to stifle a laugh when she noted Emma rolling her eyes, a small smile teasing the edges of her mouth.

"Positive," Emma assured him and accepted the embrace he pulled her into, patting his back before he kissed her cheek and practically ran from the room. "They had an argument," Emma explained once he was gone. "He's been driving himself crazy wanting to run home to apologize."

Inside, Regina felt her curiosity purr at having been sated without her needing to prompt Emma. On the outside, she went with her usual disinterest when Snow or Charming were involved. "Thank you for that titillating revelation," she drawled before she changed the subject. "Your father informed me of your little afternoon trysts with the sandman."

"You make it sound as though I'm having an affair…" Emma titled her head, brow furrowing in thought. "With a fairy tale character who is either eccentric, or really weird. Sandman; it's almost as bad as Rumplestiltskin. Seriously, who names their kid that?"

Regina sighed and set her purse down on the nearest desk as Emma dragged herself over to the small kitchenette in the corner. "I can't decide if your deflections are getting worse, or if they've always been this terrible and I simply didn't care enough to question them."

Emma shrugged as she went about dumping what was left of that morning's coffee in the sink and refilling the pot. "Probably the latter," she said before she sighed and glanced over her shoulder. "You know I haven't been sleeping well."

"I didn't realize it was so bad that it warranted you sleeping at your desk," Regina replied. She had known. Not because Emma had told her, mind, but because of the circles under eyes often so full of light that it was almost painfully disappointing to see them so… dull. "I can't imagine the damage it's doing to your already atrocious posture."

"I always knew you cared."

Her immediate thought was to deny it, and Regina rolled her eyes at herself. She understood her defense mechanisms better than anyone, but that particular one didn't make any sense. Not any more, at least. If there was anyone other than Henry who could claim she cared for them, it was Emma; it was an established fact by that point.

She chuckled quietly. If she was already sick of her own walls, how much longer could she expect Emma to hold out? Another day? A week? A month?

Letting loose a groan at the thought, Regina shook her head and swiftly crossed the room to where Emma remained fiddling with the coffee machine. Emma may have waited three to four years for her to catch up, but she had waited somewhere close to five decades for a chance at happiness and if being with Robin had taught her anything, it was that time was precious.

As painful as it was to watch him leave, the pain didn't compare to the moments in which she'd felt something more, something worth holding onto. Ever since their morning at the diner, she'd began thinking of all the moments like that she had with Emma. With Henry and, though she would deny it with her very last breath, with Charming and Snow.

Before fate, before Tinkerbelle's pixie dust and Robin, she'd had a taste. A taste of a life in which she could be happier than she had ever been before. Though they'd never quite made it there, she had envisioned, if only briefly, what her life might have been like had her and Emma eventually become friends.

It wasn't the romantic love she'd spent more than half her life in pursuit of but it was love, regardless. Beautiful, platonic love that could only be possible between two people who'd been through so much together. People who beat the odds time and time again, who would do anything to protect their son and see that their family were kept safe.

Regina was tired of waiting and as she stepped in close to Emma, she slipped arms around her waist. "I'm sorry," she murmured, smiling when she felt Emma shiver.

"I forgive you," Emma replied, causing the smile to widen as Regina placed a kiss behind her ear.

"You have no idea what I'm apologizing for, do you?" she chuckled.

"Not a clue," Emma admitted as she turned in the embrace. "But that doesn't change a thing," she continued, taking the arms from around her waist and sliding them across her shoulders. "I'd forgive you anything."

Although touched, Regina couldn't help herself and raised an eyebrow. "Really." Emma nodded, expression serious. "Hypothetically speaking, what say I accidentally wandered over to your parent's apartment and smothered your mother in her sleep? Would you forgive me then?"

"Definitely," Emma replied, lips twitching in amusement.

"Interesting," Regina purred, pressing herself more firmly against her. "And what if I were to tell you I have decided to abstain from sex? Would you still want to be with me? Forgive me such an unforgivable sin?"

Biting her lip now, Emma nodded again and Regina could feel her laughter bubbling to the surface. She most definitely had _not_ abstained from sex (nor would she ever contemplate such a horrendous thought) but knowing Emma would want to be with her despite the obvious attraction and chemistry they had, that she held no doubts would extend to the bedroom, was an extreme ego booster.

Eyes drawn to the lip caught between teeth, she pondered the scenario that suddenly occurred to her and smirked. "What if I one day have an accident and lose all memories of how to cook?" she questioned, certain of the answer.

"Now you're just pushing it," Emma replied and the laughter erupted, throaty and breathless before it was cut off by those soft, perfect lips.

* * *

 

"Emma?" Snow stared at her in surprise and quickly stepped back, throwing open the door to let her inside. "I thought you were your father."

Emma smiled as she stepped into the apartment and looked around, noting all the small difference since she'd last visited. It had been a while, she realized, a sudden pang of guilt hitting her in the chest. "Sorry. I should've called," she said as her mother waved off the apology before she was even finished.

"Nonsense," Snow replied and pulled her into a hug. Emma shifted to accommodate the rather large baby bump she was sporting and hugged her back. "You don't need to give us notice. You're always welcome here, Emma, you know that."

"Yeah I know," Emma sighed, squeezing before she pulled back. "You make up with dad?"

Snow rolled her eyes and Emma bit her lip as she watched her mother walk over to the kitchen area, resisting the desire to laugh; Snow waddled. She couldn't help it. "That man," Snow said, oblivious to Emma's thoughts, voice laced with an affectionate exasperation as she motioned to the vases lining the kitchen counter.

Emma's eyes widened at the sight and she let out the laugh she'd been holding. There were five of them, containing what had to be at least ten different combinations of flowers. "Wow," she breathed, removing her jacket and hanging it up before she crossed the room. "He wouldn't tell me what he did, and now I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Nothing," Snow exclaimed barely below a shout. "I have hormones; sometimes I cry for no reason. You would think he'd know this after you and your brother. Your father is outrageous."

Emma chuckled, running her fingers along the row of petals leading to the stool where she sat down to admire the vast colours. She felt she shared an understanding of her father in that moment, almost as if there was a connection linking her to how his mind worked. She liked to think it was something she would have done in his place.

Regina would probably dismiss it as genetic, the _uncharming_ condition Emma had once heard her call what she herself thought of as mere human decency; holding open a door for the person behind you, sharing an umbrella, not laughing maniacally when someone walks into a post despite how badly you might want to while helping them back to their feet—that sort of thing.

"In his defense, he did knock you up." Snow leveled her with an unimpressed stare and Emma held her hands up in mock surrender, grinning as she said, "I'm just saying; if he wants to apologise for your mood swings, they are kind of his fault."

Snow laughed softly. "Maybe," she conceded, lips stretching with a smile as she stared down at the vases.

Snow sighed after a minute or two, dismissing whatever thoughts had caused her entire face to soften as Emma looked on. She was starting to understand Henry's comment when he caught his mothers kissing. Seeing her mother smile, seeing the affection in her eyes whenever she talked about David; it was all she needed to know the depth of their love for one another. She didn't need the gruesome details that would take years of therapy to get through—knowing was enough, knowing they were happy made her happy.

"Anyway," Snow broke through the thoughts and Emma straightened, shaking them from her head. "Not that I'm not overjoyed by your visit, but what brings you here?"

"I… came to invite you and dad to dinner—Regina thought you might like a night free from cooking," she lied a little too easily, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Truthfully, Regina had forced her out of the house with an ultimatum, telling her that if she _didn't_ invite them to dinner, she would be spending the night at the bed and breakfast. It had been Henry's suggestion and, being the soft touch that Regina was when it came to him, she'd caved but, of course, it would be a cold day in hell before she herself invited his grandparents to her house.

_"That last thing I need is your mother thinking I actually want her here, Miss Swan."_

Emma smirked at the memory. She didn't believe it for a second, but given the right incentive (such as being relegated to one of the lumpy beds at the B&B should she dare decline) she would gladly allow Regina her secrets. It wasn't as though it was a strain on her to invite her parents to dinner and with a soft bed, combined with whatever mouth-watering deliciousness Regina was cooking, awaiting for her? There was a no-brainer if she'd ever heard one.

"So," she said, grinning up at her mother's wide stare. "You and dad coming to dinner or what?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's country music.
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> But not really; it's always been my Emma to Regina song.

Regina wasn’t particularly in the mood to play hostess to the Charmings, but as was the case a good majority of the time; what Henry wanted, he tended to get. It had been a while since they all had dinner together, and while she did still attend lunch every Sunday, Henry was often at a sleepover with a friend and the only time he really got to spend with his grandparents was during the week after school when both of his mothers were busy and he went home with Snow.

With a third child on the way, she knew he’d get even less time with them. She couldn’t say no, regardless of how much she may have wanted to. Of course, she’d sent Emma to extend the invite. If Snow thought the invitation was her idea, she’d spend the whole night gushing about how happy she was they’ve put the past behind them and become friends.

Not that she thought Snow would refrain simply because she refused to invite her herself, but there was always some hope the woman would get a clue sooner or later, as unlikely a scenario as that was by that point.

Rolling her eyes at her thoughts, Regina bent down to retrieve the meatloaf from the oven in time with the sound of the front door opening. Familiar voices filled her home as Henry greeted their guests and as she set the tray down on the counter, she glanced to the kitchen entrance, sensing the presence of the one Charming she didn’t mind tolerating, and smiled.

“See,” she teased with a mock pout. “That wasn’t too difficult now, was it?” 

Brow raised, Emma pushed from the door frame and sauntered closer, smirking. “You can let me know how difficult it was after you’re done shopping for baby clothes next weekend.”

Regina stared at her for a full minute before she stated, “I am not doing that.”

“Well I told her you would.” Emma smiled, a look of feigned innocence on her face. “Have fun telling her otherwise.”

“No,” Regina countered, practically growling the words. “You will tell your mother—”

Jaw snapping shut as Snow entered, Regina huffed through her nose and glared at Emma who pretended not to notice. “Tell me what?”

“Nothing,” they both replied, lips pursing in tandem as Snow glanced, suspicious, between them.

Receiving nothing more than their blank expressions staring back at her, she shrugged. “Henry said you have juice,” she said, looking to Regina.

“Fridge,” she replied, swatting Emma’s shoulder once Snow turned around. Forget about love. She was going to kill Emma—as soon as her parents were out of the house and Henry went to bed. “Door, second shelf.”

When Snow retrieved her juice, she offered them a smile before she left. Regina tilted her head, watching her go. Emma snorted next to her and Regina shook her head with a sigh. Emma was right; Snow did waddle. “You’re a child.”

“You still love me,” Emma replied, merely proving Regina’s point when she stuck her tongue out. Regina rolled her eyes.

“Go and bother someone else,” she said, unable to muster even an ounce of the irritation she would have liked. What was wrong with her?

Emma kissed her on the cheek, which instantly brought a smile to her face and—right. That was what was wrong with her; she was in love with a woman with the mental maturity of a teenage boy. “And set the table,” she added as Emma strolled from the kitchen, the sounds of her doing as she was told following scant seconds later. 

Her smiled widened and Regina chuckled to herself. If this was what happiness felt like, she never wanted it to stop.

* * *

 

“Are you two finally together?”

Emma choked on the piece of meat in her mouth and David quickly rose, rounding to her side of the table to thump her on the back. As her eyes watered, he filled her wine glass and handed it to her, patting her shoulder before he returned to his chair where he fixed Regina with a patient stare.

“Why are you looking at me?” She snapped and he smiled.

“Because my daughter is in the process of dying and incapable of answering the question, I’m certain, without more sputtering and half-hearted excuses for why you two are maybe, possibly…” She glared and he hurried to correct, “Definitely not together.” 

“They are,” Henry muttered, realizing he’d spoken louder than intended as four sets of eyes fell on him. He frowned. “What? You are. It’s gross.”

David chuckled as Regina and Emma narrowed their eyes. “I’ll be sure to let Grace know you think relationships are gross.”

“Emma,” Regina scowled, the anger in her tone loud and clear.

Emma frowned. Surely she wasn’t supposed to pretend with her parents as well. Wasn’t this why Regina apologized the other day; because she was tired of trying to hide their feelings for one another? Ugh. She was the damn Queen of Mixed Signals. “What, they clearly know, Regina. What is the point in pretending?”

Regina blinked, surprised before she shook her head and drawled, “I was referring to your insistence that Grace is his girlfriend.”

“Uh, Mom.”

“He’s too young, Emma,” she continued. “Why must you force our son to grow up faster than he needs to?”

“Mom,” Henry tried to interrupt again, exasperation in his voice.

“Regina.” Emma tried too, though her exasperation was layered with fondness as she sighed. 

“I,” barely left David’s mouth before Regina spoke over them all. 

“Next thing you know, he’ll be sixteen and telling us he’s going to be a father and wants to quit school. Move out. Get a job. Why do you hate me, Emma?”

“Kay.” Emma raised her voice, snapping Regina out of it. No son of hers was going to be having sex at sixteen, and if she found out Henry was, she’d abuse her power and have him jailed until he was twenty one. Her tone softened and she said, “I love that our son is still responsible in this insane scenario you’ve created, but that’s what it is, Regina; insane. You’re crazy.” 

The silence that fell was deafening. Regina stared hard at Emma who met the challenge in her gaze with her own, refusing to back down, both stubborn beyond all reason before Henry sighed and said, “Grace and I are dating, Mom.”

Chestnut eyes flicked from emerald to hazel, brow furrowed. “What?”

“I thought everyone knew that,” David interjected, glancing back and forth between all three of them. 

“Oh she knew,” Emma assured and their eyes met once more, Regina’s narrowing while Emma simply cocked her eyebrow and smirked.

“I did not,” Regina denied hotly.

“Yeah you did, that’s why you glare at the poor girl every time you see her.” Emma sat back and sipped her wine, waiting for another denial that never came. Swallowing, she licked her lips and added, “It’s like she’s your new, favourite arch-nemesis and you’re plotting a way to destroy her happiness.”

Snow chuckled under her breath before she proceeded to shove a forkful of potato into her mouth, feeling Regina’s glare alight upon the side of her head. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Regina declared a moment later, turning back to Emma. “I hate you.”

Emma grinned. Even without her lie detector pinging like mad, with the affection in chestnut eyes as Regina spoke, the words wouldn’t have fooled anyone. “No you don’t,” she replied, smugness written across her face. 

Regina slumped back in her seat, picking up her wine and flinching as a high-pitched squeal filled the air. “Christ grandma,” Henry groaned her thoughts aloud, his fork clattering against his plate as he covered his ears.

“Oh I’m sorry, Henry.” Snow bounced in her seat, which had Emma cracking up as Regina scowled at them all. “Your mothers are just so married!”

Their eyes widening almost comically—simultaneously, Emma, Henry and David spoke at the same time.

“Mom.”

“Grandma.”

“Honey.”

Emma’s head fell forward, chin against her chest as she slowly shook it from side to side. Regina rose and collected her half finished meal as Snow looked up at her, confused, wincing at the sound of Emma’s head hitting the table. 

“Feel free to see yourselves out when you’re done,” Regina stated, snatching the bottle of wine from the table before she turned and made her way to her study.

“What? What did I say?”

“Thanks, Mom.” Emma pushed up from her chair, ignoring Snow’s expression, which only grew more confused by the second as Emma glanced down at Henry. “Go with your grandparents tonight.”

Understanding in his eyes, Henry nodded and she bent down, pressing a kiss against his head before she collected her own dinner and followed Regina.

 

_Hold me now, I’m six feet from the edge and I’m thinking;_

_Maybe six feet, aint so far down._

 

Brows rising in familiarity with the beginnings of the tune pouring from the study, Emma quickened her pace. Regina glanced up from her chair as Emma barged into the room, mouth open in protest as she grabbed the Ipod from beside her.

“If you wanna go back in there and strangle her for her thoughtlessness, I’m all for it,” Emma said, bending over to put her dinner on the table before she straightened and searched through the play list. “I refuse to condone this depressive bullshit, however.”

“It’s your Ipod,” Regina argued as she reached for the hand holding it.

Emma raised it above her head, chin tilted toward the ceiling as she scrolled the songs. “You’re right; it is my Ipod— therefore, choice of song should be mine.”

Landing on one she thought more appropriate, Emma sent the Ipod across the room to where it usually sat with a wave of her hand and fell to the cushion next to Regina. 

 

_Once I thought that love was something I could never do;_

_Never knew that I could feel this much._

 

Regina snorted. “How is this any better than my song?”

Emma froze, mid-lean for her food, incredulous. She sat back, disregarding the fact she could feel her stomach growling for her to stop teasing and feed it. She turned to Regina, face screaming its disbelief. “Did you seriously just compare Brooks and Dunn to Creed?”

Before she had the chance to respond, Regina bit her lip as Emma started singing the next part. “In my life, I’ve been hammered by some heavy blows… that never knocked me off my feet. All you gotta do is smile at me and down I go, and baby it’s no mystery— why I surrender; girl you’ve got everything.”

 

_The way you look, the way you laugh._

_The way you love with all you have;_

_There aint nothing about you that don’t do something for me._

 

Regina shook her head, the smile coming unbidden to her lips. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over Emma being able to do that. Her own singing voice wasn’t anything to scoff at, but singing was definitely something she wouldn’t do outside the privacy of her own home—certainly not in front of someone else. 

Unless that someone happened to be a three year old Henry, climbing into her bed in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep. Her smile widened at the thought before she remembered the reason she’d needed to escape from the dining room table to begin with, and frowned.

Snow had a bad habit of putting her foot in her mouth.

She should be used to it but—apparently she wasn’t.

Any mention of marriage always made her think about Leopold and the years she spent being ignored, made to feel as though she was nothing more than a decoration who’d occasionally be deemed fit to entertain her royal highness—generally when Leopold had to leave on one excursion or another because at any other time, Snow was practically joined to her father’s hip. 

Being Queen—being a wife had been the loneliest time of her life. She doesn’t want to feel that way with Emma. She doesn’t honestly believe she would, but just thinking about it and the possibility of it had her feeling as though she were about to hyperventilate.

Regardless of what she might one day have with Emma, it was far too early in their relationship to consider marriage. She had only just accepted her feelings. Hell, she was still shocked to learn David and Snow knew about them, never mind the fact they spoke as if they approved of the relationship.

Lunches in which all of them could be civil for an hour or two once a week were one thing, but approving of her? Thinking she was worthy of Emma and all that goodness inside of her that she couldn’t seem to help sharing despite all the terrible things she was responsible for…

She had a hard time believing it herself and while that wasn’t exactly a good enough reason for her not to go ahead and accept what Emma freely gave, deserved or otherwise, she’d thought David at least would’ve offered some kind of protest against them.

Snow had always been a little too forgiving when it came to her, but David—David was not. He was the knight in shining armor; quick to protect those he loved from evil, and if she was ever anything in his eyes, evil was as good a word as any. She often caught him studying her in the quiet moments. He looked at her as if seeking some kind of clue as to whether or not she truly was the redeemed villain that his wife—that his daughter and grandson liked to claim she was.

She didn’t blame him. Not really. Like him, she too was weary about allowing people in, especially those who’d proven themselves untrustworthy in the past. It was why it had taken her so long to see this thing between her and Emma. Emma could hurt her—Emma has hurt her. 

Not intentionally, never intentionally; she knew that, of course she knew, but after a lifetime of abuse from those closest to her, opening her heart to the possibility of having it broken again was difficult. She needed time, time that Emma had given her without expectations or anything even remotely resembling a time limit.

When; at what point did Charming decide she was good enough?

“Earth to Regina.”

Fingers snapping in front of her face, Regina frowned as she dismissed her thoughts and turned to meet emerald eyes and a sheepish expression.

“Sorry,” Emma offered, her grin crooked. “Do we—is this something we should talk about?”

“That depends,” Regina drawled, brow rising with her words. “How similar are your thoughts to your mothers?”

“Um.”

Regina snorted and shook her head. “Promising start,” she teased, receiving an eye roll in return.

“I don’t want to say the wrong thing here, alright? I know it may seem like I don’t think before I speak sometimes—”

“Emma,” Regina chided. She may tease her from time to time, but she won’t stand for Emma putting herself down like that.

“I want to explore this. I love you and you… tolerate me—”

Regina huffed, exasperated. “Emma.”

“I can’t help it,” she admitted, pinching the bridge of her nose. She sighed as her hand fell back into her lap before she continued, “Look, I can’t honestly tell you I haven’t thought about it—it’s been four years. Married to you, that… that would be a dream, but this is still all so new to us and while I won’t deny that we do sometimes argue like a married couple, I don’t think either of us is anywhere near ready for that kind of commitment.”

Finally receiving the answer she was hoping for, Regina sat back. “I agree,” she replied, flicking her wrist and conjuring the glass she’d forgotten earlier in her haste to be far away from Snow.

“You do?”

She nodded as she poured herself some wine. “I admit I’m surprised you wouldn’t jump at the chance after waiting all this time but I am… I am glad you believe as I do. I want this—I want you, but I want to be able to take the time to enjoy what we have before we decide we want more.”

“That’s…” Emma hesitated, brow furrowing and Regina shook her head at the thought that crossed her mind in that instant. Emma was adorable, stupidly so. “That’s good—great even. I mean, we haven’t even been on a date yet. Trust my mother to be the one to bring marriage into the equation.”

“Dates weren’t really a thing back in our land,” Regina reminded her. “There was some form of courting for the lower classes, but most royalty had their hand promised to another before they were even old enough to speak.”

“I get that,” Emma grimaced, leaning forward and swiping her dinner from the table. “But she’s lived here longer than there. I really don’t know why she hasn’t figured out how different things are.”

“I guess she assumes that since you and I are both from that world, we’d be more inclined to dive in head first,” Regina reasoned with a shrug, wrinkling her nose as Emma ate what was surely cold meatloaf by that point.

It was, and Emma didn’t care, happily chewing away before she swallowed and commented, “In this world, that is a perfect recipe for divorce.”

Regina smirked. “In that world, divorce meant hiring someone to murder your husband or wife.”

Emma blinked and turned to face her, curious. “Was that a regular occurrence?”

Regina nodded, peering at her from over the lip of her wine glass. “More often than you can imagine,” she said before taking a sip.

“You should bring that up if she ever mentions it again.”

“If,” Regina snorted her disbelief, shaking her head with a chuckle. “If you think your mother won’t be bringing it up again, you are far more naive than I thought.”

“I’ve been told I sometimes have unrealistically high hopes.”

Now that, Regina could believe and she patted Emma’s thigh as she said, “When it comes to your mother and her ability to ruin things, you should keep that in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ruined dinner. Oops.
> 
> * * *
> 
>  
> 
> [One Last Breath](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwj83KHwl8fKAhXDGZQKHaMoCPcQtwIIHTAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DfE-sXvCDyOc&usg=AFQjCNFYHx8GjP2vLIZnppwns1y_OBYJKQ&sig2=KACu8ms9ALpD1P7wuNQN9g) / [Aint Nothing 'bout You](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwiA9aH8l8fKAhWIUZQKHXbiDvUQyCkIHTAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DSpJdhC5E8Vg&usg=AFQjCNHbmeUUbX1GVWmtSoW0IQghE5-nrA&sig2=LowP7Dx3I_O7EVBeaxFiMA)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write a Christmas shot, but all of them devolved into smut and I haven't really been in the mood to write that sort of thing lately, so I added to this instead. There are gifts involved, but it's not Christmas so... *shrug* It's fluffy and I like it.

Regina rolled her eyes at the gasp from beside her. She was going to kill Emma. Slowly and painfully. Shaking her head, she turned to see what had caught Snow's attention this time and grimaced at the onesie the woman held in her hand. She said nothing, however. Far be it for her to tell the woman her daughter would look like a clown if she dressed her in those atrocious polka dots. 

Why Snow had wanted her to come along was still a mystery, even more so than the one in which she wondered why she'd agreed after all and hadn't, in fact, already killed Emma for being the reason she was in such a situation to begin with.

"Oh isn't it adorable, Regina?"

Regina forced her expression blank. "Yes dear," she said before she glanced around. Where the hell did Emma disappear to this time? Bad enough that she'd been conned into doing this, but now Emma had vanished with David and didn't bother to tell anyone?

Oh Emma would pay. Emma would pay dearly.

"They're over there," Snow said, seeming to sense the reason for the sudden scowl adorning her lips. Regina turned in the direction she was pointing, and frowned. 

When Emma noticed her attention on them, she beamed and Regina had to look away in an attempt to hide her smile. She was still annoyed with the blonde and no amount of godawful light radiating from her idiotic face was going to change that.

"I bought you a present."

Regina's head snapped to the side, brows raised in surprise. Considering all the bags David carried, she wanted to ask how many but what came out instead was a disbelieving, "Me? You bought me a present?"

Why? What conceivable reason could Emma possibly have to buy her anything?

"Yep." Regina stared at her as though she'd grown another head, and Emma grinned. "Wanna see?"

"Yes," she said before she could stop herself. "No," she corrected. This was Emma trying to get out of being punished for dragging her along on this awful, awful day-- she was certain of it. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Miss Swan."

David chuckled and Regina slowly turned her stare on him. "And don't think I don't know this was your idea," she added. His jaw shut with a click. "I'm not Snow, Charming, your daughter can't buy her way out of the doghouse."

He pursed his lips and Snow patted his cheek before she grabbed his arm. "Come along, husband, lets give these two a moment," she said, leading him away from the two women and out of the store.

When Regina turned her attention back to Emma, the blonde wore a pout that (unfortunately) made her soften. She was overreacting, she knew, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Spending the day with the Charmings wasn't the worst possible thing she could be doing with her time, but still-- there were hundreds of things she could be doing that were a damn sight better.

And yet still, Emma could have not suggested turning the trip into a family thing and stayed in Storybrooke with their son who'd seen the potential for everything going horribly wrong and respectfully declined her invitation to join them, much to her annoyance. He at least would've provided her a distraction from his grandmother's constant and inane ramblings, unlike Emma who'd spent most of the time with Charming, acting like the children they'd both left in the care of Granny.

Reminded of that fact, her expression hardened once more and Emma sighed. She gave up on her attempt to manipulate Regina and apologized. "I'm sorry, alright? I promise to never put you in a position like this again and if she asks, I'll tell my mother how much of a cold day in Hell it'll need to be before you ever willingly agree to spend more than an hour in her presence."

Regina tilted her head and thought about it. It was a start. It was certainly the first time Emma had bothered to apologize in the three days since all of them had dinner together and, while somewhat belated, that went a long way in earning her forgiveness. She sighed after a moment.

"I suppose I can at least be grateful you came along," she admitted, sounding thoroughly put out by the admission. "But I also feel I should point out that you coming was supposed to lessen my time alone with her."

"I know," Emma conceded. She leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before she pulled back and added, "But I saw something in a window we passed and I wanted to slip away to get it for you, but Dad caught me before I could and badgered me until I let him come with."

Regina felt the warmth of those words wash over her. Emma didn't need to buy her things, but that she'd had the thought to do so was undeniably sweet. "Don't tell me that even your father is growing tired of your mother's rambling," she drawled. "He's my only hope when it comes to keeping her away from me during the week now that she's on leave."

Emma chuckled and shook her head. "She's been more... hormonal than he remembers the last two times," she explained. "He buys her gifts to cheer her up."

Eyebrow cocked, Regina questioned, "Oh? And is that why you decided to buy me something?"

"Not really," Emma denied, and chuckled again at her look of surprise. "I know nothing cheers you up more than sniping at my mother-- no gift is going to top that."

"True," Regina drawled. She only resisted doing so now because she'd noticed Snow was far more fragile than usual and the last thing she wanted to do was put up with the woman's hysterical sobbing.

Not that Snow didn't deserve some payback for ruining her dinner the other night, but that could wait until she was less... soft.

"Very well," she sighed and gestured to the bag Emma was holding. "What was so important that you'd risk your own mother's life to get for me?"

Emma's grin returned. "A few things," she replied and Regina's eyes widened. One random gift was more than she could handle, there were more?

"What--" Emma held up her hand.

"I'm a little hesitant about one of them since we've barely done more than kiss but..." Regina swallowed as thoughts filled her head. There were few things she could think of that warranted such a particular comment, and every one of them she could imagine herself being very appreciative of.

Watching Emma remove the box from the bag, she felt a familiar tug in the pit of her stomach. She'd seen enough of those boxes to know what was inside and the idea that Emma would buy lingerie for her was, without a doubt, a definite turn on. 

"I..." Emma looked up and her breath hitched. "Um."

Regina smirked, confident it was the desire in her eyes that had Emma speechless. She lowered her voice, putting as much meaning into her words as she could and purred, "I do hope my gift is you modelling what's in that box, Miss Swan."

Emma flushed bright red and ducked her head. Regina's smirk widened. Sometimes even shy, awkward Emma was a temptation hard to resist and, as she cleared her throat, she straightened and slipped on a mask of mild curiosity as she allowed her thoughts to roam with the future possibilities. 

"I think you may have just topped sniping at your mother," she said. Emma met her gaze again, cheeks still a pretty pink as she bit her lip. Regina chuckled and confessed, "I am intrigued, my love."

Emma released a puff of breath and shook her head. "Right," she said, the husk of her voice unmistakable as Regina felt her stomach somersault in response. "This... isn't really on the same level as-- as that but..."

Regina stared down at the small, thinner box she pulled from the bag. Emma lifted the lid and Regina's throat closed up. Inside, resting on a purple velvet cushion lay a silver necklace. "Emma," she breathed as she reached out and traced the small figure eight in the center of the chain. "This must have cost a fortune."

Emma smiled. "I am really bad at a lot of things but... I'm really good with money and it doesn't matter how much it cost. I love you and I wanted something to show that, so even when I wander off with my father and leave you to suffer my mother alone, you can remember this and remind yourself that setting me on fire the next time I piss you off might not be the best idea in the world."

Regina laughed for the first time since earlier that morning, grateful to have something to focus on beside the telling sting behind her eyes. It might not be on the same level as lingerie, but it was perfect all the same. "Eternity, hmm?"

Emma flushed once more but this time, the shy and awkward part of her was overshadowed by the confidence in her words as she nodded and replied, "If you'll have me." She plucked the necklace from the box and dropped the box back into the bag, setting it on the ground before she stepped forward. 

Grinning, Regina turned and brushed the hair away from her neck. Hands glided over her shoulders and she sighed, content as a thumb briefly, and loving, stroked her jaw before knuckles grazed her neck and she clasped the chain against her chest.

When she turned back to face the blonde, she released the chain and grabbed the front of Emma's shirt. Emma stumbled before her hands found hips and she held tight as Regina captured her lips in a searing kiss that left them both feeling light-headed, but giddy.

"You two are so sweet," came Snow's voice as they broke apart. "Aren't they sweet, honey?"

Emma groaned, her head falling to a shoulder. "Mom," she whined as David and Regina chuckled.

* * *

 

"Home sweet home," Emma declared, falling dramatically back on the couch in the den. Henry followed suit, flopping down beside her. 

Regina watched them, smitten with the sight of her son in the black leather jacket Emma had bought him, and thankful Emma had ignored her demand to put it back when she'd picked it up. It wasn't nearly as mortifying as she first thought it would be, and her fear of being reminded of Killian every time she saw him in it was (thankfully) for naught.

If anything, he reminded her even more of Emma and after today-- well, that was most assuredly a good thing.

"How was your day, sweetheart?"

"Awesome. Granny made loads of cakes and gave me all the leftovers."

Regina grimaced. She needed to have a word with that woman. Just because everyone called her Granny, didn't mean she needed to embody the grandmother of every child in town and spoil them rotten. If she wasn't careful, between the older diner owner and the blonde menace grinning at her from the couch, Henry would spend his teenage years in and out of the dentist's office because of all the junk those two fed him.

"I suppose I won't need to feed you then."

He shook his head. "Nah, Red fried these bacon balls stuffed with cheese for dinner."

Regina threw up her hands in exasperation. "It's as though this entire town is trying to give me a heart attack."

"Now that'd be ironic," Emma drawled. Regina grinned and threw a wink at her over a shoulder as she turned on her heel. Their son may not need feeding, but they'd missed lunch thanks to Snow's indecision about whether or not she should buy a new stroller or if the three she'd already received when she had Neal were enough.

Irritants. All of them.

Emma sighed, a wistful sound as Regina disappeared around the corner. Her head rolled to the side where Henry sat and she grinned, wide. "Looking very suave there, little man."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm 14. I'm hardly little, Ma."

"Pfft." Emma waved a hand dismissively. "You may tower over your short stack mother, but not me, kid."

"I heard that," Regina called from somewhere out of sight.

"You were supposed to," Emma called back as Henry snorted beside her. "So... you like it?"

Henry bobbed his head up and down. "I tried to get mom to buy me one for my birthday, but I think they remind her of Hook."

Emma's eyes widened before she screwed up her face. She'd never considered that being the reason Regina looked at all her jackets with distaste. Well-- all but the brown one, which she seemed to prefer if the constant magicking all the others out of her hands was any indication.

"Huh. Be right back," she said as she rose from the couch. She paused at the entrance to the foyer and looked back. "I bought a few more games for the playstation too, but I left them in the car."

With another roll of his eyes, Henry nodded and she grinned. The kid was too smart for his own good.

"Hey," she said, announcing her presence as she entered the kitchen.

Regina looked up from where she was peeling potatoes, brow raised as she parroted, "Hey."

"Henry said something interesting just now."

"Our son is a very interesting boy."

"Of course," Emma chuckled and slipped arms around her waist from behind. "But what he said got me thinking and now I'm really curious."

"Oh?"

"He told me he once asked you to buy him a leather jacket."

"He did," Regina replied hesitantly, wary of where Emma was going with this.

"He also told me he thinks you said no because leather reminds you of Hook."

"So?"

Emma hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. "I thought you'd deny it."

Regina tilted her head, exposing her neck to those soft, attentive lips as she replied, "You thought wrong."

"Mmm." Emma kissed her again, this time behind the ear before she added, "Which leads me to my question."

Eyes closing as she enjoyed the attention, Regina waited until her skin stopped tingling before she prompted the blonde. "Go on."

"You don't have a problem with the brown one. Why is that?"

Regina placed the knife in her hand down on the counter and turned in the embrace. "I'm surprised you didn't figure that out."

With a lopsided grin, Emma admitted, "Oh I'm pretty sure I have, but I want to hear you say it."

"Well in that case, the answer is quite simple, my dear." Emma shuddered at the sound of her voice, eyes hooded and fixed to dark, red lips as Regina leaned in and purred, "It's the one you wore when you punched him in the face."


	13. Chapter 13

Emma eyed the monstrous tree in her front yard. She'd been meaning to do something about it for weeks, but it was only with the help of the storm last night that she finally stopped putting it off, afraid if she kept procrastinating she'd arrive one morning to find it'd finally collapsed in the roof of the house. The thought of all that work renovating, wasted; the word horrendous came to mind, but it was definitely not strong enough to describe the abject horror she'd feel had such a thing come to pass.

"We could just cut it down," David offered. Emma glanced at him, wondering if he'd lost his damn mind as she shook her head.

"Regina's right," she said, ignoring his grin. She wasn't whipped. She was being smart and listening to the woman she loves, for once. "If we cut it down, no matter which way it falls, something is gonna break."

David tilted his head and slowly nodded. "Maybe we should ask her to do it then?"

Emma huffed. "Afraid I'll magic it into Granny's?"

"Well," he drawled, ducking as she aimed a smack at his head. "Hey now, no abusing your father."

"I read somewhere that it's okay if your father is a _dick_ ," she countered and smiled at his laugh. "Seriously though, you're giving me performance anxiety. You're an awful father."

He gave an exaggerated gasp and she rolled her eyes. "You can do it, Emma. I believe in--"

"Lies," she interrupted as she raised her hands.

David chuckled before she shushed him, needing to concentrate otherwise she probably _would_ send the damn thing into the diner, and the last thing she needed was a crossbow bolt in the ass.

"Rude," he murmured but fell silent as magic began to stir in the air around them.

Emma closed her eyes, brow furrowed as she tried to remember what Regina had told her that morning. They'd had a surprisingly long discussion on the merits of keeping the tree intact rather than obliterating it as had been Emma's first idea before Regina scoffed in that _you're being an idiot, dear_ kind of way she had.

It was decided she would move the tree to a clearing in the forest. Well-- _Regina_ had decided it and waved her hand, and then Emma was suddenly there. She had no idea where _there_ was exactly, but she'd burned the image of it into her head before she scared her parents half to death by poofing into their kitchen while they were having breakfast.

David was there in case something went wrong, and if nothing did, then he was there to help her carpet the bedrooms, which she would mention just as soon as she was certain she wasn't about to kill herself moving a 2000 pound-- 5000?

Emma shook her head before she lost herself to pondering the weight of a tree and pictured the clearing as she thrust out her hands, magic surging from her fingertips.

At the loud whoop from beside her, she cracked an eye open and promptly groaned as the other snapped open. "What? You did it," David said in confusion, and she groaned again.

"Yeah and now I have to fill in that hole," she whined, stomping her foot for good measure. David laughed again but failed to duck in time as she clipped the back of his head.

"Hey," he protested. She raised a brow when he said nothing more before they both blinked, a thought occurring to them both. "You should probably make sure it ended up where it was meant to."

Emma sighed. "Yeah. Wait here," she said and flicked her wrist, smirking at his reply of _where would I go?_ as her magic engulfed her and whisked her off to the forest.

"I must admit, I'm impressed."

Emma spun around before the smoke had even cleared, eyes wide. "Regina?"

"No," came the silky drawl, "the ghost of Christmas past." Regina rolled her eyes. "Idiot."

Grinning despite the insult, Emma ate up the distance between them in a few short strides. "What are you doing here?"

"Did your father not mention my brief appearance while you were blindly throwing your magic around?"

Emma frowned. She wasn't _blind_. Well-- okay, she had her eyes closed but she'd been facing the tree and unless a strong wind had swept in and turned her around while she was using her magic, which it _hadn't_ ; no harm no foul. "No," she said, pouting.

Dismissing the pros and cons list forming in her head revolving around the type of damage she might cause should she smack David again, Emma added, "I thought you had a meeting."

Regina shrugged. "I cancelled it." Curious, Emma opened her mouth to question why but Regina waved her off and answered before she could. "All anyone in this town ever does is complain. Sometimes I wonder why I bother, and today I chose not to."

Surprised but no less thrilled Regina had chosen to visit her over one of her dreadful meetings, Emma smiled. "I'm rubbing off on you," she sing-songed, eyebrows wagging.

Regina sniffed, unimpressed as she replied, "Either that is a promise, or a bold-faced lie, Miss Swan."

Emma's cheeks reddened. That was _not_ what she meant. _Although_... She cleared her throat. "Promise," she said, nodding. "Definitely a promise."

With a chuckle, Regina beckoned her forward with the crook of her finger. Emma bit her lip and erased the last few inches between them, somewhat wary but extremely hopeful. Regina could kiss her, or she could just as easily summon a fireball and throw it at her head for being affectionate because _God forbid_ the animals of the forest hear the former Evil Queen liked such a thing.

Then again, her mother talked to animals all the time and-- right, maybe her hypothetical-Regina scenario had a point.

Too busy contemplating the idea, Emma missed the eye roll Regina gave before she grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her forward. Emma yelped and then there was a mouth on her and-- okay then; _Bye bye hypothetical-Regina._

Regina didn't simply kiss her. No, that just wouldn't be Regina at all. She _conquered_ Emma's mouth, too impatient to wait for an invitation as she shoved her tongue between those impish lips.

Guided by the firm press of hands on her hips, Emma walked backwards until she felt the tree at her back and moaned, arms winding around a waist as Regina sank against her. Their make out sessions on the couch (and anywhere else they could, really) were always hot, but none of them compared to this. For someone who loathed PDAs, Regina was almost ravenous and there wasn't a single cell in Emma's body that wanted to complain, even if it could.

Breaking for air with a gasp, Emma tilted her head back and enjoyed the attack of lips on her throat. Regina mapped her flesh with lips, teeth and tongue as her hands slipped beneath Emma's tank and nails dragged down her stomach.

"Jesus," she rasped, struggling to heed the thoughts in her head telling her they needed to stop as Regina sucked on her pulse. Never in her life had she ever wanted anything less than for them to stop but this was not how she envisioned their first time.

Fourth, fifth time? Sure, but Regina was worth a whole lot more than some quickie in the forest. Besides, David was waiting for her at the house and-- David was waiting for her. Damn it. If she made him wait too long, he would no doubt find her (as their family was wont to do) and the thought of being caught in a compromising position with Regina was... Pretty damn hot actually, but not if it was by her _father_.

Emma shuddered, torn between disgust and the overwhelming pleasure of that mouth. Kissing, sucking, smiling, smirking, grinning, snarling or throwing caustic barbs that cut straight to the bone; Regina's mouth excelled at everything.

"Regina," she breathed. It was all she could manage as teeth raked across her skin.

"Emma," was the equally breathy reply before Regina bit down and Emma jerked against her mouth. Dear Gods, she wondered, since when was biting a thing for her?

_More importantly, are there limits?_

Emma squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in attempt to clear the ideas running rampant; turning the tables and taking Regina against the tree was the exact opposite of what she _had_ to do.

Reaching up and running fingers through her hair, Emma gripped brunette locks and gave a firm tug. Regina growled against her neck before she lifted her head, desire swirling within the caramel depths of her eyes with the tiniest bit of anger shining through. Emma smiled softly and released her hair to trail the hand down her neck, cupping her cheek as she leaned in and claimed that devilishly talented mouth.

"I'll make it up to you," she promised, already planning to fob most of the work on the house off to her father. He wouldn't mind, and Emma had a feeling Regina wouldn't mind the wait too much with how she intended to reward her patience.

Regina sighed and closed her eyes. She pressed their heads together, nostrils flaring before she managed to take a few breaths. Emma watched, rapt, as an expression of peace settled on her face.

"Very well," Regina conceded after a moment, stepping back as she opened her eyes and pulled away from her. "Go back to your little pet project. I'm sure your father has traumatized himself enough wondering what I could possibly be doing to you all the way out here."

Catching the flicker of glee in those beautiful eyes before Regina could hide the fact, Emma shook her head with a grin. She didn't mind that tormenting her parents was just as appealing to Regina then as it had been thirty odd years ago. It was a lot less disconcerting than thinking about all the times Regina had tried (and failed, likely because she never bothered to try hard enough; let's be real) to kill them, and therefore far more preferable.

"See you at home?"

Regina smiled and re-entered her space. "Yes," she said, placing the softest of kisses against her lips before she vanished in a puff.

Emma sighed, wistful, lips tingling as a grin (she imagined her son would coin her look as _dorkish_ ) spread across her lips before she too disappeared from the clearing.

* * *

 

Walking into the mansion at 108 Mifflin, Emma removed her jacket and hung it on the provided hook. She tugged off her boots next and placed them in their designated area next to her son's before she straightened. Taking a breath, she readied herself to shout a phrase she'd considered a thousand times already, and then reconsidered it again.

There was something about the words _Honey, I'm home_ that appealed to her in more ways than one, but then there was the fact she often arrived earlier than expected and she loved seeing the pleased look that would cross Regina's face seconds before she got her feelings under control to feign the indifference Emma found, surprisingly, just as appealing.

Weird, perhaps, but it was yet one more thing she didn't bother questioning as she'd quickly learned that a lot of the things Regina did that might annoy her coming from anyone else, were decidedly less annoying coming from the woman she loved.

Given that it was almost 6:00, Emma didn't bother with searching the house and headed straight for the kitchen. Regina was a stickler for routine and if there was ever a time dinner wasn't on the table at exactly 6:30, Emma would probably assume the world had ended, and promptly curl up in ball to wait for Regina to find her instead because _really_. Their lives were complicated enough without forcing her to live through an apocalypse.

Regina was more suited to the role of Savior anyway. Which, Emma realized with faint exasperation, was not a road she should let her thoughts travel down. First biting, now she was fantasizing about being a damsel in distress, saved by a former villain turned hero.

"Nope," Emma uttered beneath her breath. It had taken her all afternoon to get her libido under control while trying to avoid the curious (and somehow, knowing) looks from her father.

Now _there_ was a conversation she never hoped to have with either of her parents. _Sorry I'm so jittery, Dad, I had to stop Regina from ravishing me in the forest even though it was the absolute last thing I wanted to do, right below this conversation._

Nope, nope and _hell_ nope.

Emma sighed, letting the fantasies play out in her mind and ignoring them as best she could as she entered the kitchen. She stumbled the second she looked up, barely catching herself on the door frame as she took in the sight of swaying hips.

Swallowing roughly, Emma licked her lips. Her eyes flickered up to the back of Regina's head and she breathed a sigh of relief as she noted the headphones Regina wore. Regina had enough in her arsenal to use against her without witnessing her embarrassing almost-collision with the floor.

Quietly tip-toeing over to the island counter and taking a seat, she propped her chin in hand and waited. In all the years she'd known Regina, Emma never imagined she'd have the fortune of seeing Regina like this, so carefree and happy. Her life up until Storybrooke was not a fairy tale (unless one considered the Brothers Grimm kind. She did not.) but the fleeting moments in which she experienced true happiness meant she could recognize the signs when they were staring, or more aptly put, _shimmying_ right at her.

Regina was dancing. Regina was _humming_ and if Emma had a million dollars, she would bet it all on the fact that should Regina turn around, there would no doubt be a smile that could power the entire state of Maine with power left to spare.

Sighing, content, the sound soft, Emma took what time she had to admire the way Regina moved. It did nothing to dampen the images in her head, each one growing more vivid in detail, but she wouldn't worry about that just yet. There was something about Regina that made everything she did captivating and Emma wanted to enjoy every second she had to soak it in, voluntarily falling under the witch's spell as she traced every curve with her eyes while imagining it was her hands.

 

_Girl, I like the way you move._

_Come and show me what to do._

_You can tell me that you want me._

_Girl, you got nothing to lose._

_I can’t wait no more._

_I can’t wait no more._

Regina startled, gasping as she felt the hands on her hips. Her eyes snapped open and she tried to turn, stopped by an arm slipping around her waist as an ear bud popped from her ear.

"Sorry gorgeous," Emma murmured and Regina turned her head, melting at the sight of the grin Emma wore as she pushed the bud into her own ear. "Couldn't help myself."

As Emma started to move against her, Regina sighed and leaned back, bringing her hands up to rest on the arm holding her in place. She closed her eyes, unable to keep the smile from her face as Emma settled her chin on a shoulder and softly sang along to the music in their ears.

_I look at you and it feels like paradise;_

_You got me spinning, got me crazy, got me hypnotized._

_I need your love, I need you closer._

_Keep me begging, keep me hoping that the night don’t stop._

 

Regina traced Emma's arm to the elbow, nails scratching flesh that pimpled under her touch as she sank even deeper into the warmth at her back. Emma hummed in her ear as she slipped the hand at her hip beneath her blouse and Regina shivered at the contact, a telling throb growing between her thighs as heat coiled low in her stomach.

It wasn't dancing. Not really. She'd imagined dancing with Emma more times than she cared to count and it was never anything like this but feeling the way Emma moved with her, their hips in perfect synchronization-- her backside perfectly aligned with a certain part of Emma's anatomy she'd been dreaming about for weeks...

Regina sighed and turned her head, reaching up to clasp the back of Emma's neck as she pulled her into a kiss. Nothing compared to this and it would take an army to tear them apart now that Emma was finally home and they could pick up where they left things in the forest.

"Emma," she murmured, nibbling her lower lip.

"Mmm?" Emma boldly pushed her hand higher and Regina groaned as she stroked her ribs.

"Take me upstairs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware that I suck for ending it there. Yes, there will be smut next chapter. And no, I don't know when the next update will be as the muse is adamant about NOT writing anything with smut in it... which should explain the lack of updates this month, period. I have no excuse beyond the fact that my muse is a dickhead.
> 
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> [Bailando](https://www.google.co.nz/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjLrYKCmMfKAhUGspQKHcX8DG8QyCkIIDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Db8I-7Wk_Vbc&usg=AFQjCNFeYSwGN5Df0meFO4KupBzkmlFS7g&sig2=hBYh2DlUxys32RcnzxxokQ)


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